


Tandem - A YoonMin AU

by Kyt (SinDKyt)



Category: Hallyu, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, BDSM, Blood and Violence, Bottom Park Jimin (BTS), CEO Kim Seokjin | Jin, CEO Min Yoongi | Suga, Character Development, Dancer Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Dancer Park Jimin (BTS), Fashion Designer Kim Taehyung | V, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Major Character Injury, Past Rape/Non-con, Performance Art, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Professor Kim Namjoon | RM, Rock Star Jeon Jungkook, Scars, Top Min Yoongi | Suga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-08-23 22:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 65,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16627370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinDKyt/pseuds/Kyt
Summary: Park Jimin is co-CEO and owner of Tandem Conservatory of Dance along with his long-time friend, Jung Hoseok. As Tandem gains prestige, investment opportunities arise that will allow major corporations to give back to the arts in their communities by investing in the growing company.Min Yoongi, CEO of Holly Publishing, is roped into attending an investors meeting at Tandem Conservatory as a favor to a friend. As a connoisseur of performing arts, he is pleased with the setup and ideals presented by the company as a whole, but he is not expecting to be struck so completely by the shy charisma of co-owner, CEO Park.The connection is mutual.Both men are unsure how to proceed with the pull that they feel between them, and it only increases as they learn about each other. However, dark scars from tragic pasts resurface in an unexpected threat and more than one life hangs in the balance, pulling at the thin thread of trust that Yoongi and Jimin have wound around themselves, stretching the endurance of the newly formed bond.DISCLAIMER:Some secondary character models are real celebs that fit the role aesthetic; AU roles are not indicative of my opinion of them IRL. <3





	1. Chapter 1

_The human brain can process millions of pieces of information at once. Hundreds of times more capable than any modern computer, and infinitely more intuitive, the brain can send just one electrical signal and any number of functions will be carried out by the body. So many factors go into something as simple as a person raising their hand. Why, then, can a dead leaf twist around in the wind without any effort at all and still possess unattainable grace?_

“Seonsaengnim?”

_Is the leaf enviable, then? It has no real say in the direction that the wind takes it…_

“Excuse me, Seonsaengnim?”

_Maybe that’s the real difference, a human moves when they need or want to, a leaf moves only when propelled by an outside force._

“PARK SEONSAENGNIM!”

Park Jimin jolted out of his musings with a start and stared wide-eyed at the young woman who had come up beside him. Her pretty face was pulled down into an annoyed scowl and her tightly secured hair bun quivered with her agitation.  
“Is everything alright Lisa?” he asked, searching her expression to try and gauge the cause of her irritation.

“Yes, Sir. Except that I have been attempting to get your attention for the last 3 minutes,” she replied with exasperation.

Jimin shook himself and turned away from the window he had been gazing out of. “My apologies, Lisa. I seem to have been daydreaming.”

“Yes sir,” Lisa responded evenly. “But the investors from Physalign are here and would like a tour.”

Jimin straightened abruptly. “The investors are here? Now? What time is it?!” he asked, frantically looking at his watch. “Shit it’s already ten minutes after three. I have to go!”  
He started moving towards the dressing room with Lisa hot on his heels.  
“Lisa. If you could-”

“Yes, sir, I know.” Lisa interrupted. “Stall for a while until you can meet them. Offer them coffee or tea, but not one of the health teas because they taste like grass-water,” she recited. “I do know how to do my job...”

“I know, I know, and you’re the best,” Jimin said absently as he reached into his locker and pulled out a manila folder. Shoving the folder into Lisa’s hands, he turned her around and started pushing her out the door of the dressing room. “Where is Hoseok?” he asked.

“On his way, Seonseangnim,” Lisa replied as she passed through the door. “He was delayed as he was leaving, but he should be here shortly.”

Jimin nodded. “Excellent, thank you for checking. The list of visiting representatives should be in that folder. You’re a lifesaver,” he said as he closed the dressing room door in her face. Lisa shook her head and smiled as she went to entertain the visitors until her boss could make himself presentable.

As soon as the door was shut Jimin strode across the dressing room, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a trail behind him as he went to the showers. Turning on the water in the shower as hot as he could stand it, he scrubbed himself down with efficiency, covering his lithe body in suds before bracing both hands against the back wall of the stall and lowering his head to let the pressure of the water beat against the back of his neck and sluice the soap off the rest of him.

This meeting was it. _The_ meeting. Getting Physalign Pharmaceuticals to invest in Tandem was what would make or break his company. Physalign had been moving towards launching programs that “gave back” to the community, and Jimin knew from an inside source that a substantial sum had been earmarked for contributions to the arts. 

_And what better art to invest in than dance?_ Jimin thought to himself as he hurriedly washed and rinsed his hair and turned off the shower. He dried himself off with the towel that was hanging from a peg outside the stall before wrapping it around his waist and going back to his dressing room. Standing at his vanity, he leaned forward to examine his face in the mirror – still smooth from this morning’s shave. Jimin gave a satisfied nod to his reflection and reached for his toner. He hated shaving, but he had never been a particularly fuzzy man, thankfully, so once a day usually sufficed to keep his sharp jawline unstubbled. After conditioning his skin he dropped the towel and walked naked to the rack of outfits and costumes behind him, pawing through them to find the clothes he had set aside for today.

He rifled back and forth through the articles of clothing for a few minutes before his eyebrows bunched together in a frown. Where was his suit? He remembered sending it to be cleaned…maybe he just overlooked it in the press of costumes that were shoved onto the rack. Flipping through the selections more carefully did not produce a different result, however. 

The suit was not here.

Jimin tried to remember who was supposed to pick it up. It wasn’t Lisa – she was far too efficient for that. 

Hoseok. 

Jimin dropped his hands from the rack and brought one up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Hoseok was supposed to be picking up the suits for today’s meeting. As if summoned by the thought, the door to Jimin’s dressing room burst inward and a fast moving ball of energy exploded into the room with an armful of garment bags. 

“I MADE IT JUST IN T-oh HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY,” said Hoseok, his tone changing from cheerful to appreciative when he saw Jimin standing naked in front of the clothes rack. Jimin rolled his eyes and went to close the door back while Hoseok laid the bags across the vanity stool.  
“I didn’t know this was a naked meeting,”Hoseok quipped as he looked down at himself. “I feel so overdressed!”

Jimin chuckled at the never-ending exuberance of his business partner, dear friend, and occasional lover. “It’s only a naked meeting because I was waiting for _you_ to show up with my suit. Which, if the state of that garment bag is any indication, is probably a wrinkled mess.”

Hoseok shrugged and appraised himself in the mirror while Jimin unzipped the garment bag and began putting on the suit pants.

“No underwear, huh?” Hoseok said as he smoothed his jacket and adjusted his tie. “How daring.”

“Oh shut up,” Jimin muttered as he buttoned his pants and reached for his shirt. “And where is the jacket?” he asked, rummaging in the bag. “There is a coat that goes with this suit.”

Hoseok untied his tie and began retying it. “Oh yeah. I forgot to mention the other day - there was a problem with the coat.”

“Wait, what problem?

“It was ugly.”

“It was _not_ ugly. And who are you to tell me when clothing is ugly, Mr. My Tie Looks Like Cat Vomit?”

Hoseok quirked an eyebrow and ran his hands down the length of his garish tie. “My tie is AWESOME, thank you. And the coat for that suit has never fit you right. If you are going to insist on wearing it again, at least bring it to Tae and have it taken in.” He pointed to the other garment bag. “I have saved you, though, so you’re welcome.”

Jimin gave him a skeptical look and opened the second garment bag, gasping with delight as he viewed its contents. Inside was a satin corset vest in the deepest purple Jimin had ever seen, with black satin pocket accents, and a black and purple silk pocket square. Jimin whistled as he pulled it out of the bag.  
“Hyung,” he breathed. “This is beautiful.”

Hoseok smiled brightly. “Do you like it? I know that you prefer pastel if you are going to wear color, but I thought this would go well with the black shirt and pants from the suit. Plus it’s from Tae’s new winter collection so I know it will fit you properly.”  
He walked over as Jimin pulled the waistcoat on and buttoned the front of it. Hoseok turned him around to face the mirror and pulled the laces on the back of the vest so that the garment lay snugly against Jimin’s torso; seamlessly working with the tight fit of the dress shirt underneath to accentuate his slender build and show a hint of his six-pack. 

“There now,” Hoseok said with a smile as he looked over Jimin’s shoulder to catch his gaze in the mirror. “You look very handsome and I’m sure all of the investors will fall instantly in love with you.”

Jimin rolled his eyes again but smiled at his friend. 

“You look nice too, Hyung,” he said. “Now let’s go get some money for our dancers.”

 

* * *

 

 _I wonder how many cups of coffee I can ask for before I am considered rude…or before I need an emergency bathroom trip,_ Yoongi mused as he sipped on his third cup of complementary coffee and ignored the small talk going on around him. He hated investor meetings on any day, but he especially hated when they involved new investment prospects. He disliked the process so much that usually his lawyer would be the one to investigate a new investment opportunity and then report back to him with the worthwhile options.

This was not a prospect for his own company, however, but one for Physalign, and since heavy contributions to their R&D department, combined with being a majority stockholder, meant that he sat on the board of directors for the pharmaceutical company, here he was.

Dressed in a suit.

Drinking coffee by the gallons and trying his best not to frown at everything.

The other reason for his attendance was sitting across the conference table from him talking animatedly with their hostess. Seokjin had attempted to include Yoongi in the conversation a few times, but monosyllabic answers and a pointedly raised eyebrow had soon discouraged him. After a few moments, the hostess…Lisa may have been her name…he wasn’t certain, excused herself and went to check on the needs of the other investors. Seokjin got up from his seat and walked around to take the chair next to Yoongi.

“You know, you could at least try to be friendly,” Seokjin said teasingly as he sat down in his perfectly tailored suit. “Our hostess is lovely and very charming.”

“You were flirting with her,” Yoongi said absently as he drank more of his coffee.

Seokjin shrugged and grinned unapologetically at his friend. “I flirt with everyone.”

Yoongi cracked a smile. “That’s true. How Namjoon has put up with you all these years I will never know.”

“It’s probably my-“ Seokjin began.

Yoongi held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there,” he interrupted. “I don’t need to know the particulars of how you keep your husband happy.”

“Listen, perv, I was going to say it’s probably my cooking,” Seokjin snorted. “You went somewhere else with that all on your own.”

Yoongi smiled again and dropped his hand as he shook his head. “Whatever you say, Hyung.”

His friend laughed again and patted Yoongi on the back. “But seriously, having you as part of the investment team for the Tandem prospect was Namjoon’s suggestion. He seems to think you will like the facility, and the owners are long-time friends of ours.”

“It’s nice to know that a literature professor has such pull with Physalign’s investment opportunities,” Yoongi said dryly. 

“He does when he’s married to me and I sit on the board,” Seokjin replied, unfazed. “Plus I happen to agree with him. Just see what you think at least. Tandem’s business model is good, and Hoseok and Jimin have really done a wonderful thing with their Hope on the Street scholarship program. Give it a chance, Grandpa, before you reject the idea outright.”

Yoongi held up both hands in resignation. ”Ok ok, stop nagging. And don’t call me Grandpa.”

Seokjin chuckled as the conference doors opened and the investors stood to greet their hosts. “Now be pleasant and try not to scare the nice business owners."

 

* * *

 

Hoseok and Jimin walked into the conference room as the investor team stood.  
“Thank you so much for your coming today and for your patience with our rather demanding schedules,” Hoseok said smoothly as he and Jimin moved forward with hands outstretched to greet their guests. “Let’s all get introduced and then take a tour of the facility so you can see what your investment will entail.”

There were five members of the investment team in all. Two of them were from Physalign itself, and the other three were from the board of directors who were company CEOs in their own right - Shin Suran from Far Away Records, Kim Seokjin from Worldwide Games, and Min Yoongi from Holly Publishing. After introductions were made and pleasantries were exchanged, Lisa excused herself from the room as it was time for her to teach a class.  
Hoseok thanked her and explained to the group that Lisa was a valuable assistant, but was also one of the top instructors at Tandem; using her departure to segue into the tour.

Jimin let Hoseok lead the way, giving him space to use his remarkable presenting skills and occasionally chiming in with additional information or to answer questions that the investors had. The tour went smoothly, and the investors seemed pleased with the setup of the business as a whole; showing particular interest in the top tier classes, the troupes that had been formed for the various styles, and the scholarship program that allowed talented dancers to train in exchange for community service or positions within the company itself. After the tour they gathered back in the conference room to draw up a provisional investment outline, and the meeting ended with friendly exchanges all around and promises to have lawyers get in contact to draft the actual investment proposal.

Once the investors were gone and the rest of the teams of Tandem instructors and students had left for the day, Hoseok found Jimin in the open practice studio, back in his dance gear, stretching on the floor. He loosened his tie as he walked in and sat on the floor next to Jimin, popping open a beer and handing it to him. Hoseok opened his own beer and took a long pull.  
“Well that went well, I think,” he said.

Jimin pulled his legs up in front of him and nodded before taking a swig from his can. “I think so too. You did a good job, Hyung.”

Hoseok eyed his friend. “ _We_ did a good job, you mean.”

Jimin smiled and inclined his head. “We did. I am anxious to see how the proposal turns out. Seokjin-hyung seemed pleased with how things went so that’s encouraging,” he said. “Oh, and speaking of Seokjin, we are invited to his and Namjoon’s house tomorrow for dinner. Did he tell you?”

Hoseok took another sip of his beer and nodded. “Yeah, he told me. I can’t go, though, I am taking the Hope Street Team to give the hiphop dance workshop in Daegu tomorrow so I will be gone overnight, probably.”

“Ah, right. I forgot about that. Well, we’ll miss you. I don’t know what we’re having, but Seokjin-hyung is cooking so it will probably be better than whatever you are having in Daegu,” Jimin laughed.

Hoseok smiled in agreement. “You’ll just have to eat extra for me, I guess.” He threw back the rest of his beer and stood. “Well, I am done for the day, time to go home and relax. Today was good, but it was still stressful. Can I give you a ride?”

Jimin shook his head and handed his empty can to Hoseok. “No thanks. I think I am going to decompress here for a while. I like to dance in the later hours when no one is here but me. Helps me clear my head. Thanks, though. Have a good night, Hyung.”

“Ok, see you later. I’ll call you when I am back in town,” Hoseok said as he left.

“Drive safe tomorrow.” Jimin called as he went back to stretching.

 

* * *

 

The light in the foyer flicked for a moment before turning on when the front door opened and Yoongi paused to exchange his shoes for slippers before hitting the light switch for the main hall and setting his briefcase down. Pulling his tie off and shrugging out of his suit coat, he walked into his kitchen and draped both of them over one of the barstools before going to the fridge and pulling out an unopened bottle of soju and reaching to the shelf above for a small glass. He downed three consecutive shots as he stood there before taking the glass and bottle to the living area and plopping down on the couch.

The investment meeting had gone well, as far as those things did, and he was actually impressed with the entire setup of Tandem. But no amount of prior knowledge could have prepared him for that meeting. He poured himself another shot of soju and set the bottle on the coffee table in front of him before downing the drink.

He had been there at the suggestion of his friend and had been ready to give the prospect a chance. What he had not been ready for, apparently, was Park Jimin. When the Tandem CEOs had walked into the room, his attention had first been drawn to Jung Hoseok; a handsomely charismatic man with bright hair, a bright tie, and an even brighter smile. But the man who came in behind him had knocked the air from Yoongi’s lungs just by stepping into the room. Park Jimin had to be the most beautiful person that Yoongi had laid eyes on and it had been all he could do not to outright stare at him. He was a petite man, similar in height to Yoongi’s shorter stature, but with a much smaller frame. Jimin had glided gracefully into the room, his stunning face smiling pleasantly as he reached out to shake hands with everyone. Yoongi had managed to make it through introductions without embarrassing himself, but the feel of Jimin’s small hand in his had lingered long after the handshake was over. 

Over the course of the tour and subsequent investment talks, Yoongi had done his best to pay attention to the business at hand, but everything about Jimin had been distracting. From the way that his vest hugged his body so tightly, to the snug fit of his pants over what was definitely the best ass Yoongi had ever ogled, to the way his eyes turned to crescent moons when he fully smiled, or the way that he constantly ran his hands through his dark blond hair – it looked so soft, Yoongi wondered what it would be like to fist his hands in that hair…

 _Nope._ He admonished. _Stop that nonsense. Pull yourself together, idiot._ Yoongi shook himself and poured another shot, draining the small glass as his phone chimed out a message notification.

**[Jin-Hyung]: Hey you. What did you think of the prospect today?**

Yoongi scrubbed a hand over his face before replying.

**[Yoongi]: It seems like a solid investment. I am going to recommend that we proceed with it. I may want to add additional investments from Holly Publishing too. I’ll talk to my lawyer about it tomorrow.**

**[Jin-Hyung]: I told you that it would catch your interest. Hey listen, what are you doing tomorrow evening?**

**[Yoongi]: Nothing, to my knowledge, but I have to check my calendar. Why?**

**[Jin-Hyung]: Namjoon doesn’t have his evening class tomorrow so we were wondering if you want to come over for dinner. Just say yes, it’s not like you are going to have plans.**

Yoongi scoffed as he read the message.

**[Yoongi]: Wow thanks, Hyung. Good to know how highly you think of my social prospects.**

**[Jin-Hyung]: Oh please. We _are_ your social prospects, Grandpa. Don’t be stuffy. Just come over. ;) **

Yoongi chuckled to himself. It had been a while since he had seen Seokjin outside of a business setting, and Namjoon was always too busy with classes to socialize much. It would be good to spend time with his friends. And it certainly beat sitting around by himself and being tortured with thoughts of a beautiful man with a heart-stopping smile. 

**[Yoongi]: Ok fine, I guess I can make the sacrifice in my busy schedule and come to dinner. Usual time?**

**[Jin-Hyung]: Yep.**

**[Yoongi]: Ok, see you tomorrow. And don’t call me Grandpa.**

 

* * *

 

Jimin checked his phone for the hundredth time while he waited for the train. He’d had a good day today, and his students were doing well. The money from the new investors would really go a long way towards improving the possibilities for his dance troupes and helping them to get into bigger venues. The blocking rehearsal for his modern troupe’s new show had gone smoothly and if that trend continued through tomorrow’s dress rehearsal, they would be more than ready for opening night. The new production would be the first time he danced with a troupe that was primarily composed from members of his own company and he was beyond excited to see how they would be received.

He checked his phone again as the train pulled up. The investment negotiations had started between companies and Jimin was anxious for updates from the lawyers, even though he knew these things took time. 

_Enough already._ He scolded himself. _You’ll get news when there is news, it’s only been a day._ He put his phone in his pocket and found a spot to sit on the train. He’d worked hard today and was looking forward to dinner with Seokjin and Namjoon. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the window as the train pulled away from the platform. Even though he tried not to let them, his thoughts kept slipping back to the investor meeting yesterday. Each of their guests had been very pleasant and had seemed very attentive to all the aspects of Tandem, but Jimin’s attention had kept getting pulled to the somber man at the back of the group. Jimin would walk ahead of the visitors, supplementing Hoseok’s presentation or answering a question, but every now and then he would feel the back of his neck warm and would turn to find a pair of intense brown eyes staring at him before they turned to pay attention to the tour. 

Jimin had noticed immediately how handsome Min Yoongi was when they were introduced and the warmth of his hand as it enveloped Jimin’s for a handshake had stayed even after each had let go.  
But there was something about his eyes.  
Something about the way he would lean down to look at a piece of paperwork during the meeting and then stare up through the fringe of his white blond hair to ask a question or make a suggestion that commanded attention. The quiet gravelly baritone of CEO Min’s voice had stirred something low in Jimin’s belly and it had been all he could do to keep his breathing even and his attention on the business at hand. It was only by some miracle that he hadn’t spent the entire presentation blushing. He smiled to himself as the subway pulled to his stop and he opened his eyes. He must have been successful enough or Hoseok would have noticed and there was no power in the known universe that would have stopped the teasing.

Jimin stood with the rest of the crowd in his car and let himself be swept along through the doors and onto the platform. He readjusted his messenger bag and hummed quietly to himself as he exited the tunnel into the cool fall air of the street. It was really going to be nice to have some downtime with friends. It had been a while since he allowed himself to have a breather and with the show opening soon, he knew his available time off was about to diminish significantly. 

He managed to not touch his phone once as he walked the rest of the way to Namjoon and Seokjin’s home.

 

* * *

 

“I’m telling you, Hyung, the metaphor might be heavy handed on the surface, but it is terribly subtle in its complexity. There are multiple meanings here and that is the part that gets overlooked,” Namjoon said emphatically as he and Yoongi sat at the bar in his kitchen with a book between them. “Murakami opens the entire allegory with about four different perspectives somehow coming from a single point of view. How is that not genius?”

“I never said it wasn’t genius, I said it was obvious,” Yoongi countered as he got up to help himself to more coffee. He walked around the bar to step into the kitchen proper and reached for the carafe. “Cleverness has nothing to do with the brute force used to bludgeon the point home. The westernization of militaristic Japan is clearly the main topic here… ”

Seokjin’s hand came out of nowhere and grabbed Yoongi’s wrist before he could lift the coffee pot from the maker. “Nope. Out of my kitchen. You sit over there out of the way and I will hand you the carafe when the fresh pot is done brewing,” he said sternly. “I can’t make dinner if I have men underfoot every time I turn around. Out. Shoo.”

Namjoon laughed as Yoongi held his hands up in surrender and went back around to his seat on the other side of the bar with a pained expression on his face. 

“Don’t look at me,” Namjoon said, still chuckling. “You know better than to step foot in there when he is cooking.”

Yoongi laughed and apologized to Seokjin as the ring of the doorbell chimed through the house. Namjoon excused himself from the bar and Yoongi looked at Seokjin curiously. “Are you expecting more dinner guests?” he asked.

Seokjin went back to prepping vegetables. “Just one,” he replied. “The other couldn’t make it this evening. I have more than enough food for an army at this point, though, so I might as well share.”  
Yoongi nodded absently and gazed around the room, almost falling off of his stool as Namjoon came back in the room with Jimin in tow.

Jimin was not in a suit today; the precisely tailored pants and waistcoat had been replaced by distressed black skinny jeans, a long black and white striped shirt, and a soft-looking long light blue cardigan whose sleeves covered most of Jimin’s hands. His hair was tousled still, probably the product of many passes with his hands, and a pair of large black plastic rimmed glasses perched smartly on his button nose. Jimin was the single cutest thing that Yoongi had ever witnessed and he was completely enchanted.

Jimin greeted Seokjin and then paused for a moment as his gaze met Yoongi’s. He quickly recovered, though, and set his bag down as he came forward with his hand outstretched. “CEO Min, how nice to see you again. I didn’t realize you guys knew each other,” he said pleasantly in his husky voice as he shook Yoongi’s hand. 

Yoongi pulled himself together enough to offer a brief smile as he returned the handshake. The feel of Jimin’s hand in his again threatened to destroy his composure and he had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “It is nice to see you again as well. I enjoyed the tour of Tandem yesterday.”

Releasing his hand, Jimin stepped back slightly and smiled brightly. “Thank you very much. We have worked hard with it.”

Namjoon resumed his seat at Yoongi’s side and nodded in agreement. “Jimin and Hoseok have done wonders with Tandem and we are constantly proud of how well it is going. Especially with the Hope on the Street scholarship. Also Jimin’s highest tier dance class has been registered recently, and they are truly spectacular. I believe he has a show starting soon with them. Right?” He asked Jimin.

Jimin nodded and a slight blush heated his cheeks at the praise. Then he covered his face with his sweater-bound hands and laughed. “Namjoonie-hyung, you are embarrassing me. We can talk about that later. On to something else now.” 

Yoongi thought his heart was going to fall out of his chest right there on the spot at Jimin’s shyness. Who the hell was this precious human who had been so confident in the business meeting, but was turning red at the praise of his friends?

He laughed along with Namjoon and Seokjin, though, and tried to pretend that he was not two seconds away from bundling Jimin up and putting him in his pocket.

Jimin pulled his hands away from his face and looked across the bar at Seokjin prepping the food. “That looks awesome, Hyung. Can I help?”

Seokjin smiled and nodded. “I forgot to cut kimchi yesterday so we don’t have any that’s ready to eat. If you want to grab an apron and some gloves you can cut some for us.”

“Sure thing,” Jimin said as he shrugged out of his cardigan and draped it on the stool next to Yoongi.

“Hey wait a minute,” Namjoon complained. “You just said Yoongi-hyung and I couldn’t be in the kitchen!”

Seokjin huffed and went to grab the coffee carafe. Walking around the bar, he refilled Yoongi’s cup, and then dropped a kiss on the top of his husband’s head before refilling his. “That is because Jimin asked nicely. Also he is less likely to explode the whole kitchen just by using scissors, unlike some people I could mention.”

This prompted a very undignified snort from Namjoon whose face dimpled with amusement, which caused Seokjin and Jimin to laugh as Seokjin put the carafe back in the maker and returned to his task.

Yoongi, meanwhile, was very intently not paying attention to how the long-sleeved shirt under the cardigan hugged Jimin’s body, or how cute he looked in the apron and gloves, or how he squeaked when he laughed at his friend’s dad-jokes while they worked side by side, or how his full, cupid-bow mouth would open into a perfect ‘O’ when Seokjin was giving him something to taste test.. This was going to be a problem. A serious problem. He had known the man for two days and was somehow unable to function around him. 

Yoongi gave himself an internal slap to the face and lectured himself on all the ways this was inappropriate and something that he needed to avoid. Catching Namjoon’s inquisitive look, Yoongi shook himself a little and smiled at the other man. Determining not to let this new hang-up spoil his rare moment of socialization, he launched back into the Murakami debate that they’d started earlier. Soon all four men were good-naturedly arguing the socio-political commentary of Murakami’s works and the comfortable mood lasted throughout the evening. Everyone pitched in to help clean the kitchen once the food had been consumed, and after enjoying a beer together, Jimin announced that he had rehearsal early the next morning so he needed to leave. 

Amidst promises all around to have a meal together again, Jimin said his goodbyes and Namjoon walked him to the door.  
“I had a great time, Hyung,” Jimin said happily. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Namjoon smiled at his friend. “Of course, you know you are welcome anytime,” he said as he pulled open the door. The sound of rain beating down on the sidewalk assaulted the quiet of the foyer as the two men looked out in surprise at the sheets of water pouring out of the sky.

“What the hell,” Namjoon grumbled. “When did this start?”

Jimin looked annoyed and pulled his cardigan around him. “I’m sorry, Hyung, but I didn’t think to bring an umbrella. Can I borrow one of yours for the evening? I can bring it back tomorrow if you need for me to.”

“Of course you can borrow one. But why don’t you let me take you home instead. I’m afraid you might get sick walking to the station in the rain.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jimin said cheerfully. “Besides, you’ve had more beer than I have so driving is probably not the best idea for you right now.”

“But-“

“I’ll take him home,” came a baritone voice from behind them.

Namjoon and Jimin turned to see Yoongi stepping out of his slippers and into his street shoes with Seokjin standing behind him. “I have meetings in the morning so I should probably leave too.”

Jimin looked between all of them and then back to Yoongi. “But you don’t know where I live. It could be totally out of your way…”

Yoongi gave a shrug. “I would assume it is somewhat near Tandem, since you take the train, and Tandem is on my way. I don’t mind. Really,” he said quietly, fixing Jimin with his intense gaze.

Jimin held his stare for a moment before nodding slowly. “If you are sure it’s ok.”

“I’m sure.”

Seokjin handed Yoongi an umbrella and goodbyes were exchanged again as the two men left. Yoongi kept the umbrella firmly over Jimin on the way to his car, soaking his own shoulder in the process. He opened the car door for the smaller man and saw him securely seated before jogging around to his side. 

The car ride was quiet and somewhat tense. Jimin didn’t know what to say to the man sitting next to him and wasn’t sure if his mood was surly because he was tired, or because he was annoyed that he had to take him home. He quietly gave Yoongi directions to his house and sat in silence for the rest of the trip. As Yoongi pulled up to the curb, Jimin thanked him for the ride and started to get out, but Yoongi put the car in park, got out with the umbrella, and walked around to Jimin’s side to open the door for him. Jimin thanked every star in the dark and overcast sky that Yoongi wouldn’t be able to see him blush as he got out of the car and walked beside him all the way to his door.

He thanked Yoongi again when he got to his doorstep and bid him a good night; hastily unlocking his door and opening it. He turned to ask if Yoongi wanted to take a bigger umbrella with him, but the other man was already heading through the courtyard and out the front gate. Jimin sighed deeply and went inside.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi sat at his own counter at home and slammed back his 5th shot of soju. What the hell was happening to him? The ride home had been torture; the sweet smell of Jimin had lingered in his car after he’d been dropped off and the scent had driven Yoongi to insanity in Jimin’s absence just as much as it had in his presence.

This is such bullshit. He thought as he poured another drink. You have to stop, this is so stupid. He knocked back the next shot and the image of Jimin blushing while he laughed came unbidden to his mind. Yoongi wondered if he blushed all over like that. Fucking stop it! He yelled at his wayward imagination. He grumbled to himself and got up to pull two more bottles of soju out. 

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

Jimin leaned with his back against his front door long after he had closed it and tried to get his heart rate under control. Why. He thought. Why does he affect me like this? Jimin ran his hands through his hair and laughed mirthlessly at himself. It’s always the surly ones. The hard to reach ones. Why is it always them? The dangerous ones who demand love but can’t return it? A sudden sense of anxiety pricked as memories came flooding into his mind, bringing with them the familiar choking grip of panic. Jimin gagged and leaned over, wrapping his arms around his middle as he fought against the unexpected onslaught of his own psyche. 

He slid down the door to crouch in a ball in the entryway of his own home; shaking and gasping for air as the episode overtook him fully. He stayed huddled in on himself like that for a while after the panic attack had passed; tears drying on his face as he stared blankly at the floor. Finally he uncurled and stood stiffly, opening his hands when he noticed the blood dripping from them to see perfect semi-circles of nail impressions in his skin from where he had made his fists too tight. He took a deep breath and leaned on the wall with an elbow while he took his shoes off and stepped into his slippers; careful not to get any blood on the wall. 

He needed a shower. And alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. 

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Ok once more with the lights on 2. We need the red tracking light up about 15 degrees for this sequence, I think.” Jimin stood on the edge of the stage with one hand shading his eyes, looking up at the tech booth. 

“I think ten degrees would work better for that bit, if you ask me. Which you didn’t, but you’re welcome anyway,” came a voice from the back of the auditorium.

Jimin peered down the aisle and broke into a grin when he saw Hoseok strolling towards the stage with trays of coffee.  
“Ah Hyung!’ Jimin exclaimed as he came around to the side stage stair access to take the trays from his friend. He handed them to one of his dancers to pass around and took one for himself before walking out into the auditorium to sit in one of the middle rows.

Hoseok followed him and flopped down in an adjacent seat; scooting down and propping his feet on the seat in front of him. “How goes it?”

Jimin took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. “Pretty well, I guess. We just have a few lighting issues with timing and angle, but that is an easy fix. The dancers themselves are fantastic.”

“Well duh. They are ours, of course they are fantastic.” He reached over and poked Jimin in the ribs. “And I know the leading man is great, so I can’t wait to see the reviews.”

Jimin laughed tiredly and slapped Hoseok’s hand away. “I can’t wait to see the inside of my eyelids for about twelve solid hours.”

Hoseok nodded sympathetically. “I love performing, but the lead-up and prep is brutal.” He looked over at the man next to him and smiled. Jimin gave a small smile back in agreement and turned his attention towards the stage. 

The smile faded from Hoseok’s expression and he got up to sit on the back of the seat in front of Jimin; eyes scanning his friend’s face and noticing the signs of fatigue. “Are you ok? Late night at the Kim’s last night?”

Jimin avoided looking Hoseok in the eyes and let his gaze roam over the rest of the auditorium. “Not really. I knew we had rehearsals today so I left fairly early.”

Hoseok’s mouth thinned down as he pressed his lips together and regarded Jimin thoughtfully. “Let me see your hands,” he said quietly after a long moment.

“Hyung, I’m fine. I am just tired.”

“Let me see them, Jimin.”

“It’s really no big-“

“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”

Jimin’s face turned red as he tucked the hand holding his coffee cup to his chest. He held his other hand out to Hoseok with his palm down and looked away from his friend’s concerned face.

Hoseok took the smaller man’s hand and turned it palm up, sucking in a breath as he saw the angry red marks that lined it. “Oh Jimin.” Hoseok said softly. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Jimin pulled his hand away and stood up. “Because I couldn’t, it happened too fast. It’s no big deal, Hyung. It was a short one and I went to bed right after.”

Standing with him, Hoseok looked at Jimin with a frown. “What prompted this? You haven’t had an episode in months. Did something happen?”  
Jimin shook his head and started walking down the row towards the aisle. “Nothing happened, it just…sort of came on before I could stop it. I’m really am fine now, though. And I have to get back up there or we are never going to be done with this rehearsal. Thanks for the coffee,” he said as he evaded Hoseok’s grasp and moved swiftly to the stage.

Hoseok let his hand fall after his failed attempt to stop his friend and sat back down in his seat. If Jimin was having panic attacks again, something had to have triggered it. He got out his phone and sent a text.

**[Hoseok]: We need to talk. Can you meet up later?**

 

* * *

 

It had been three weeks since the dinner party at Namjoon and Seokjin’s and Yoongi hadn’t seen Jimin since the uncomfortable drive to the younger man’s house. Well, he hadn’t seen him in person anyway. Jimin’s face had been plastered all over the city lately as his new show had exploded onto the entertainment scene and had taken the dance and theater world by storm. It seemed that everywhere Yoongi looked there was a poster, advertisement, bus mural, billboard, flyer, you name it - “Tandem Performance Studio and Serendipity Dance Troupe Presents: Wings – Staring Park Jimin.”

Yoongi sat back in his office chair and tried to stretch some of the stiffness out of his neck. It had been a long day. Hell, it had been a long month. Holly Publishing was preparing to ramp up their numbers as more and more bestselling authors were signing publishing contracts, and his work on Physalign’s board of directors seemed to be getting increasingly demanding. This meant more time spent at the office, rather than working from home, which, in turn, meant more time wearing a suit and interacting with people.  
He hated interacting with most people.

Yoongi got out of his chair to pace to the window of his office overlooking downtown. He had thought that maybe distance would calm the strange attraction he was feeling towards the co-CEO of Tandem, but if anything, it had caused him to be even more distracted. Yoongi was physically attracted to Jimin to be sure, the man seemed to ooze sex appeal without even realizing it, but there was something else about him. Something beyond his otherworldly beauty; some quality that pulled Yoongi in against his will and would not let him breathe. He found himself wanting to get to know Jimin; a penchant that hadn’t been part of his sexual appetite in a long time. He had neither the time nor the inclination for emotional or intellectual attachments to the people he played with. He had friends for those things. It was easier to have his fun and then drop his partner like a burnt up cigarette. 

Speaking of cigarettes…

He walked over to his desk and pulled a fresh pack of smokes out of the drawer. Going to his office bathroom, he closed the door, turned on the fan, and felt around behind the medicine cabinet for the lighter he had stashed there. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack and set it between his lips, lighting it quickly before restashing the lighter. Sitting on the edge of the chair in the corner of the bathroom Yoongi closed his lips around the cigarette, inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to smoke inside, but no one had said anything about his bathroom smelling a little like an ashtray so far. Perks of being the boss, he guessed.

He exhaled the smoke on a sigh and thought back to his last interaction with Park Jimin. The man had clammed up once they got in the car, and Yoongi knew his own internal struggles were not helping to ease the odd tension between them. They had been fine at dinner; laughing and joking with the Kims as they discussed a wide variety of topics. Jimin had been very comfortable with Seokjin and Namjoon and that comfort had seemed to extend to Yoongi while they were all together (Yoongi’d had to restart his heart a few times after being on the receiving end of a full wattage smile from Jimin), but had faded quickly once the two of them were alone.

Yoongi took another drag of his cigarette and looked at his face in the mirror above the sink. Looking back at him was a sober, oval-shaped face with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and wide eyes that sat under a smooth forehead which was actually visible today with his white-blond hair slicked back. His mouth was naturally turned down a little at the corners and, while he supposed he was handsome enough, he definitely did not look approachable. 

Which was exactly how he liked it.

Usually.

Unless he was trying to get a beautiful dancer to notice him.

 _Was_ he trying to get a beautiful dancer to notice him?

With a frustrated huff Yoongi stabbed his cigarette out in the basin of the sink and threw the butt in the trash. He didn’t know what he wanted. But he did know who he wanted…or at least who he wanted to know more about…and he was tired of suffering in stagnation.

He pulled his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit and sent a message to his friend and lawyer.

**[Yoongi]: Have we finished looking into Tandem for our own personal investment aside from Physalign?**

**[Woojin]: We have. I was actually going to see if you wanted me to send those files over today.**

**[Yoongi]: Yes. Send those over and have a meeting arranged with Tandem to negotiate ASAP.**

**[Woojin]: You want me to set up a meeting before you have even looked over the report?**

**[Yoongi]: Yes.**

**[Woojin]: You’re the boss. I’ll have the paperwork and an appointment schedule to you by end of business today.**

**[Yoongi]: Perfect. Thanks.**

 

* * *

 

Jimin sat at his dressing table backstage and put the finishing touches on his stage makeup. Week three of the show was going well; almost too well at this point. “Wings” was a smash hit and all the extra attention and sold out performances meant that Jimin had barely been given time to breathe. He was tired, but it was a happy tired. More visibility for his dance team and for Tandem itself was always a good thing and as much as he liked owning a business and teaching, Jimin was never happier than when he was on stage.

“Are you going to just sit there staring at your face in the mirror all night, or are you going to make my life easier and come stand on this box so I can measure the fit of this stupid jacket before you have to go for pre-curtain warmup?” came a voice from the corner of the room.

Jimin snorted and looked over at the man peering at him from amid the racks of costumes and cloth. Kim Taehyung, one of Jimin’s best friends since high school, stuck a long arm out from between the clothes and motioned him over. “I don’t have all evening, you know,” Taehyung said as he quirked an eyebrow in Jimin’s direction and disappeared back into the chaos of fabric.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Jimin grumbled as he got up from his seat to wade through the clutter. “Did you have to bring so much stuff for a jacket fitting? And don’t you already have my measurements?”

“Of course I had to bring this much, I’m hoping I can talk you out of wearing or even owning the jacket entirely,” his friend said as he helped Jimin up onto the stool and began flying around him with a measuring tape. “And I had your measurements, but Hobi-hyung said you’d lost weight again and so we are re-measuring.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize you and Hoseok had been talking about me.”

“Oh, we always talk about you, Hyung,” Tae said dismissively. “Otherwise we would never know about anything because you don’t tell people things.” He pinched Jimin’s thigh as he walked around him.

“Ow!” Jimin yelped. “What was that for?!”

“For not telling me you were having a hard time again, idiot,” Taehyung said as he stopped in front of the stool and looked up at his friend. “You know I worry about you, and with Stigma launching as my winter collection I haven’t had time to remind you that I am the coolest and you should tell me stuff.”

Jimin smiled fondly down at him and stepped off the stool, putting himself back at his usual vantage point with the taller man. “You are, in fact, the coolest.” he said as he reached for one of the shirts from Taehyung’s newest collection and pulled it on over his performance shirt. “And I like that suit coat, and I will keep the suit coat, thank you, so just fix it enough to make Hobi-hyung stop bitching” he chuckled.  
“But I really am ok. I think…I think I am just trying to figure out how to deal with someone is all.”

Taehyung’s head came up abruptly from where he was looking at the fit of the shirt on Jimin’s shoulders. “What do you mean ‘trying to figure out how to deal with someone’?” he asked with concern. “Is someone harassing you, Hyung?”

Jimin shook his head and gazed at the floor as a blush crept up his neck. “No. I…um…well I met someone…kind of…”

His friend started to cough to keep from swallowing one of the pins that he was holding in his mouth. “You MET someone?! And what does ‘kind of’ mean?!”

Jimin’s face started to heat as he kept his eyes trained on his feet. “It means that I don’t know this person very well, I have only met him a couple of times, and I am not at all sure that he even knows who I am or cares to know me, outside of business settings. I mean, we have friends in common, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

Taehyung put a finger in the middle of Jimin’s forehead and pushed his head back until he was looking him in the face again. “And why would liking this person cause you to have panic attacks again?” he asked seriously.

Jimin batted his hand away. “It’s not him, really. I just…like him a lot more than I should for only having been around him a few times and he seems a little surly and closed off, is all. I haven’t been hung up on someone like this since…well, you know,” he said as he looked away again.

His friend bent to catch his lowered gaze again. “Do you feel like he is dangerous?”

Jimin shook his head. “No, I think I am just broken.”

Taehyung’s face pulled into a frown and he reached around and pinched the back of Jimin’s arm as he stood upright again. “You are not fucking broken, don’t ever say that shit to me. You are allowed to be cautious.”

Jimin winced and rubbed the back of his arm with his other hand. “Stop pinching me, asshole,” he said without force. “I’ll be fine. I managed to sit through another meeting with him just yesterday and not have any issues so shush your face.” He pulled the shirt off and handed it to Taehyung. “I like that shirt, by the way. I would like to get one.”

Taehyung hung the shirt back up on the side of Jimin’s personal rack of clothing. “Have it, then, I can make more. I have the measurements that I need now so I can resize the ridiculous jacket you’re so weirdly attached to. Now get out of here, you have like two minutes until curtain.”

 

* * *

 

Yoongi adjusted and readjusted his position in his seat and did his best not to fidget. He loved going to the theater, and he had seasonal box seats reserved for the Seoul Symphony Orchestra every year but this, this was different. The house was packed to capacity and his general admission seat in the balcony seemed small and confining as he looked down on the stage. The show was set to start in a few minutes and Yoongi had never been so nervous.

His lawyer had contacted Tandem’s legal team and set up both an informal and a formal investment contract meeting. Yoongi had attended both of those meetings, which had earned him some odd looks from his staff, and both times he had managed to interact sufficiently with Jimin. Maybe it had been easier because Hoseok had been there, maybe not. All Yoongi knew was that more exposure to CEO Park had only heightened his infatuation and he was now firmly trapped by his own desire for that man. As a thank-you token for partnering with Tandem, Hoseok had sent over a few complimentary tickets to the Wings show and against his better judgement, Yoongi was in attendance, waiting to watch Jimin dance.

The house lights dimmed and the hum of the audience bled into silence as the opening strains of music flowed over the room. Curtains slowly pulled back to reveal a company of dancers in muted pastels grouped into an intricate formation in the center of the stage with a man in a black flowing silk button –up shirt and black dancer’s tights crouched on the floor in front of them. The music swelled rapidly and the entire company erupted into movement; their bodies moving as one organism to the bend and sway of the accompaniment, creating pictures of love and loss with each gesture. 

Yoongi found himself thoroughly invested in the story being portrayed as the show progressed, and he realized that, his infatuation for the leading man aside, this was a truly spectacular show and well worth the money that his company was going to be investing in Tandem. After a quick intermission, the curtains opened once again to reveal Jimin standing alone under a solitary spotlight. The music started abruptly with an agitated flurry of spanish-influenced classical guitar and a rush of energy as Jimin began to move. Yoongi glanced briefly at his playbill to see that this was Lie, the solo number that had critics raving. What the playbill didn’t mention was that this was the performance guaranteed to nearly cause the death of anyone watching it.

Jimin owned the stage. 

Gone was the quiet and unassertive business partner, and the man with the blushing laugh and sweet eye-smile was nowhere to be seen. Yoongi’s breath was pushed out of his lungs as he watched Jimin command the undivided attention of every person in the audience. Completely unbothered by such mundane elements as gravity, Jimin launched himself into the air, hitting the stage floor with absolute grace and tumbling low to writhe on the ground in choreographed anguish.

The audience was enthralled.

Yoongi was in agony.

He had never witnessed anything like the controlled abandon of Park Jimin on stage, and he had _never _been so attracted to a person. Crossing his arms to hide the violence with which his hands were shaking, Yoongi concentrated on forcing his lungs to breathe as Jimin rolled his body bonelessly and bared his soul for the audience. The end of Jimin’s solo performance was met with complete awestruck silence before the house erupted into the thunderous applause of a standing ovation. Yoongi stood with the rest, leaning against the armrest of his seat to support his unstable legs.__

 

* * *

 

Yoongi stood outside the door to Jimin’s dressing room for the better part of five minutes trying to talk himself out of or into knocking, it was difficult to tell which. The rest of the show had been as good as its first half, and Yoongi had found himself compelled to complement the leading man in person.

 _This is so stupid._ He chastised himself. _What are you even going to say to him if you do knock? “Oh hey. Nice job out there, I almost fainted from the blood loss your performance caused?” No. This is a mistake._  
He shook his head even as he raised his hand and knocked.

 

* * *

 

“Come in,” Jimin called to whomever had knocked on his dressing room door. It was probably Hoseok with another critical review of the evening’s performance. Jimin shook his head in amusement as he unbuttoned his costume shirt and turned to face his visitor, stopping mid-motion at the sight of Min Yoongi standing in the doorway. Yoongi came into the room and shut the door behind him without taking his gaze from Jimin’s. The older man’s eyes openly traveled from Jimin’s bare feet upward, pausing to take in the expanse of smooth skin over prominent abs that was showing through the unbuttoned shirt before snapping to the dancer’s face.  
Jimin felt his cheeks heating in a bright blush as the other man blatantly looked him over.

“CEO Min,” Jimin said a little breathlessly. “I didn’t realize you’d be in the audience tonight. Hoseok told me that he’d given you tickets…” his voice trailed off as the intensity of Yoongi’s stare made the words he was looking for disappear.

Yoongi stood for a long moment drinking in the sight of the smaller man, obviously warring with himself about something.

Jimin took a tentative step forward. “Is everything alright? Did you not enjoy the performance? I apologize if-“

Jimin froze as Yoongi’s mouth crushed down on his, unsure what he was supposed to do. The initial shock of the act seemed to shut down any response Jimin had as Yoongi’s mouth ate at his lips like he was starving. The feel of the other man pulled at something low in Jimin’s belly and he suddenly found himself participating.

 

* * *

 

The look on Jimin’s face when Yoongi grabbed him by the back of the neck had mirrored Yoongi’s own internal surprise that he was actually going to kiss this man. Jimin was still at first, the shock of the unexpected contact showing clearly in his body language. But just as Yoongi was about to drag himself away and apologize, Jimin’s lips began to move and he was – holy shit, he was kissing him back. A low growl rumbled through Yoongi’s chest as Jimin’s arms wound around his neck and Yoongi snaked his hands inside the other man’s open shirt to wrap his arms around him and pull him firmly against himself. Yoongi’s tongue darted out to stroke along the seam of Jimin’s delicious mouth and he almost passed out when Jimin opened to let Yoongi invade. 

Yoongi broke the kiss and pulled his head back to look at the man in his arms. Jimin gazed back with a dazed expression on his face; breathing with shallow pants from his kiss swollen lips. Yoongi removed a hand from inside Jimin’s shirt and brought it around to the back of his head to reposition him so he could have better access. On impulse he fisted his hand in that beautiful hair like he had been fantasizing about since day one and watched with surprise as Jimin’s eyes glazed over and his breathing grew more labored. Searching the other man’s face, Yoongi intensified the pull he was putting on Jimin’s hair and he jerked the dancer’s head back to expose his throat. Jimin groaned and began moving his body helplessly against Yoongi’s and Yoongi felt his knees almost give out again.  
_Holy mother of god,_ he thought as he slanted his mouth over Jimin’s for another taste. _He’s a submissive…_

 

* * *

 

Jimin’s head spun from the impact of Yoongi’s embrace and his heart beat rapidly against his chest as though trying to escape. The ferocity with which the other man had kissed him had knocked Jimin’s entire world off of its axis and he’d had no choice but to respond. Yoongi pulled his head back to look at Jimin and the intimacy of being nearly the same height and only inches away from those intense brown eyes turned Jimin’s legs to jelly. The real moment that Jimin knew he was lost, though, came when Yoongi pulled a hand away from the smooth skin of Jimin’s exposed torso, and placed it on the back of his neck where it tunneled upwards into his hair. Yoongi fisted that wayward hand high in Jimin’s hair and it was like a switch had been flipped. Jimin gasped for air as his chest constricted in anticipation, his eyes losing focus as he clung to the other man. 

Yoongi’s gaze narrowed at Jimin’s reaction and he tilted his head slightly in an almost inquisitive gesture as he increased the amount of pull he was putting on the fistful of silken hair, yanking his head back to show his throat. Jimin felt his eyes try to roll back in his head at the added pressure and an involuntary groan seeped out from between his parted lips. The hand controlling Jimin’s head tilted it back down until the two men were eye-to-eye again and the surrender on the younger man’s face shattered whatever tenuous hold on his composure Yoongi had managed to get after the first kiss.

Another growl rumbled through Yoongi’s chest as his eyes darkened with desire and he closed the gap between their mouths; taking what he wanted without mercy. Jimin was pliant in his arms, giving freely what Yoongi was demanding and responding to the lightest and most subtle queues. Without ceasing his desperate plunder of the mouth that had been haunting his dreams for weeks, Yoongi walked them both back, around the stool and past the vanity table, until he had Jimin pinned up against the wall.

Jimin’s breath left him in a rush as his back connected with the concrete surface and the full weight of Yoongi’s body pressed up against him so that Jimin could feel his arousal. Yoongi had removed his hand from Jimin’s hair and it was back inside his shirt, caressing Jimin’s body expertly enough to make him writhe under the touch. Impatient with his own lack of touching, Jimin unwound his arms from Yoongi’s neck and reached to pull his dress shit out of his suit pants so he could slide his hands under the fabric and feel the heat of the other man’s skin. Yoongi caught his hands and pulled them away from his shirt, pinning them to the wall over Jimin’s head. He ate the whimpers that fell from Jimin’s mouth like a man possessed as he stretched the smaller man’s arms higher and ground their hips together, feeling Jimin’s arousal straining against the dance belt he wore under his tights.

Yoongi pulled Jimin’s arms back down and wound them around his neck again, sliding his own hands along the dancer’s wiry arms and torso before tearing his mouth away and resting his forehead against the other man’s.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi gasped as he tried to catch his breath. 

Jimin could only nod against Yoongi’s forehead as he panted from the exertion. 

“I was only here to tell you how wonderful your performance was tonight and maybe ask if you wanted to go to dinner sometime,” Yoongi said wryly.

This confession prompted a low chuckle from the man in his arms and Yoongi pulled himself back a little to look at him fully. Jimin’s hair was wildly tousled from where Yoongi had grabbed it by the handful and his eyes were still a little unfocused. His bare chest was pulsing rapidly with the shallow breaths that he was taking, and his already full lips were swollen and bruised from Yoongi’s assault.

The urge to dive back into that mouth and lose himself there was suddenly so strong that Yoongi forced himself to take a few steps back to put some distance between them. 

Jimin watched him through half-lidded eyes while he remained leaning against the wall, waiting for his limbs to work again. Yoongi had shoved his hands in his pockets and was taking a sudden interest in the floor as he visibly tried to pull himself together. Jimin’s heart melted a little at how suddenly unsure he looked. He pushed off the wall and managed to make it to the stool by his vanity before his legs gave out entirely.

“Yes,” Jimin said quietly.

Yoongi’s head shot up and he pinned the other man to his seat with his gaze. “Yes? To what?’ he asked cautiously.

Jimin smiled at him and Yoongi almost lost his balance again. “Yes to dinner sometime,” he said with a tinge of amusement to his voice. “I only have a matinee on Sunday so I am free any time after 4, if that is ok for you.”

Yoongi nodded and swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “Sounds perfect,” he said a little gruffly. “Can I pick you up here, or at your house?”

“Here is fine. That will give me time to get showered and changed before it’s time to go.”

Yoongi seemed to struggle with whatever thought had accompanied Jimin’s mention of a shower, but managed to nod his agreement before taking one last long look at the man who had just flipped his world upside down and striding awkwardly from the room; nearly bowling Hoseok over in the process as he opened the door.

 

* * *

 

Hoseok watched as Yoongi fled down the hall and then turned and let out a low whistle as he took in the mussed appearance of his friend. 

“Woah…you and CEO Min?” he asked as he came into the room and shut the door behind him. ”Since when?” 

“Since about 10 minutes before you got here, apparently,” Jimin answered, shoving his hands through his unruly hair.

Hoseok smiled brightly and poked at Jimin’s ribs as the younger man stood and shrugged out of his performance shirt. “Must have been some party at the Kim’s the other week, unless you guys have secretly been sending telepathic messages to each other during investment meetings,” he teased.

Jimin dodged his friend and went to grab his toiletry bag, shaking his head with amusement but saying nothing.

“Wait a second,” Hoseok said. “Namjoon said CEO Min gave you a ride home from their dinner party.” He stepped around Jimin and looked him in the eye. “Is he the reason you had a panic attack?”

Jimin could feel himself turning red. “Yes and no,” he replied; hurrying to clarify as Hoseok’s expression turned thunderous. “He didn’t do anything, Hyung. He just gave me a ride home. That’s all. I had an episode because I haven’t been so drawn to someone since…well I haven’t been able to really connect to…I mean…”

Hoseok relented and wrapped his arms around his friend. “Ok, ok I get it. Don’t give yourself an aneurysm trying to explain. He made you feel feelings and you weren’t prepared. Is that it?”

Jimin nodded and hugged Hoseok back before pulling away. “Yeah pretty much. And then he came to tell me how much he enjoyed tonight’s performance.”

His friend grinned as he took in his disheveled state. “It seems like he certainly has a way with…words,” Hoseok teased.

Jimin laughed and pushed Hoseok farther away. “He is very persuasive, yes. We’re having dinner Sunday night.”

“Wellllllllllllllllllllllllll look at you all getting busy with Min Yoongi, corporate powerhouse, and awkward human extraordinaire,” Hoseok quipped as he headed for the door. “I was going to see if you wanted to come for drinks with the company, but you look like you might be drunk already.”

Jimin scoffed and made a shooing motion with his hands. “Raincheck on that. I have to get showered and get home so I can get a few hours down before I have to come back. You guys have fun.”

“Yeah I’ll bet you need a few hours down after the CEO got through with you. Your dance belt must be killing you right now,” he said cheekily as he skipped out.

Jimin threw a brush at his friend and it clattered harmlessly off the door as it closed. He shook his head again and smiled as he picked up the rest of what he needed and headed towards the theater’s shower room.  
He couldn’t wait for Sunday.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi stood in the shower and let the water beat down on him as he slowly banged his head into the tiled wall. What in the world had happened today?

He hadn’t been planning to step foot in that theater to see the production of Wings because he knew it would be torture. He had just that day decided that there needed to be a chaperone along whenever he was in Jimin’s presence, at least until he could be trusted to not act like an idiot.

Yoongi sighed and swiped his hand over his head to push his dripping locks away from his face.

There had definitely been no chaperone in Jimin’s dressing room that evening.

He picked up his washcloth and began to wash his arms under the hot water, closing his eyes against the renewed embarrassment of impulsively asking Jimin to dinner and then running like his shoes were on fire.

 _Who does that?_ He asked himself as he absently pulled the washcloth across his wiry torso. _Who just blurts out some bullshit excuse for visiting and then leaves? He was probably laughing at me the second I left the room._

Yoongi shook his head in disgust at how badly he had bungled the interaction, but the thought of Jimin smiling just reminded him that the last time he had seen that sweet smile, it had been on a face that had been thoroughly kissed.

Thoughts of Jimin from earlier that evening came unbidden into Yoongi’s swirling mind like a slideshow of exquisite torment – Jimin crouching in front of his dancers and exploding into motion when the music queues blared, Jimin rolling his body with absolute control as he led with his perfect hips, the powerful cut of Jimin’s thighs through his tights as he drug the audience through the sexiest portrayal of desperation and loss imaginable, Jimin’s sweat glistened chest peeking through his shirt on the last note of his solo as he posed suspended on his knees, Jimin’s bare torso framed by his unbuttoned shirt as he stood in his dressing room asking Yoongi if everything was ok…

 _Fuuuuuck._ Yoongi thought, hissing out his breath as his arousal came back with a punch. _I should have made this a cold shower…_

He leaned back against the wall of the shower, sliding his hand down and wrapping it around himself, reveling in the rough texture of the washcloth against his sensitive flesh. 

Jimin’s startled expression as Yoongi’s mouth claimed his.

Jimin melting into his arms as if he belonged there.

Jimin’s gasps and moans as he was pushed against the wall.

The feel of Jimin’s body under his hands; all taut muscles and unbelievably soft skin. 

The look of total trust on Jimin’s face that screamed his surrender.

The memory of the picture that Jimin had made as he’d propped himself up against the wall and tried to recover was enough to have Yoongi thrusting into his own hand. Yoongi groaned aloud as he drug the washcloth over his length; totally at the mercy of a man who wasn’t even there.

Remembering Jimin’s lips as they had opened so willingly against his invasion brought the last of the blood rushing from Yoongi’s head as he imagined those same lips wrapped around him in submission.  
The lingering taste of the younger man combined with the mental image of Jimin on his knees before him brought Yoongi’s hips forward violently and he ground out the dancer’s name on a tortured groan as he spent himself so hard that he nearly passed out.

Gasping for air, Yoongi leaned back against the wall of the shower, barely even noticing as the hot water slowly ran out and cold water drenched him.

Sweet fates, that was intense.

He laughed depreciatingly at himself as he tried to stand long enough to wash off again, quickly this time, and he noticed with dismay that his arousal had not completely diminished.

“What have you done to me?” he asked aloud to the empty bathroom as he toweled off and drug himself into his bedroom to flop onto the bed. If he was this bad off just from the mental image of Jimin, what was he going to do when actually in the man’s company again?

He would suffer, that’s what.

He would suffer and be glad.

He rolled to his side and turned off the bedside lamp, knowing full well that he would not be sleeping any time soon.

Sunday was going to be excruciating.

He couldn’t wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful with a chill in the air that smelled a little like winter. Fall wasn’t quite ready to give up her hold, though, and Jimin went out of his way to step on as many crunchy leaves as possible as he walked to the bus station with his dance bag slung over one shoulder. He had stopped taking public transportation as much because the recent success of his show had meant that people were starting to recognize his face. It was too pretty a day not to be outside, though, and taking a cab every day was getting expensive. Armed with a fashionably distressed ball cap, one of the millions with the Victory Couture logo on it that Tae was always leaving at his house, and a black cloth half-mask, Jimin ventured out into the day.

 _Just have to get through one show and then…well I don’t know what then._ Jimin chuckled to himself, fully aware of the fluttering nerves in his stomach that had nothing to do with the upcoming stage performance, and everything to do with a certain brooding CEO who had captured his undivided attention. It felt like 19 days had passed instead of 5, even though his show’s performances were still selling out the house and he had never been busier. The number of interview requests that Jimin had been receiving lately had increased to the point that he wondered if he shouldn’t hire a publicity agent for himself and give Tandem’s a break from having to represent both.

 _I’ll ask Hobi-hyung what he thinks about that later._ He mused, knowing that Hoseok would probably have more connections with that aspect of self-promotion as he had been a successful performer in his own right before partnering with Jimin to open Tandem.

He got to the stage door just as the security guard was unlocking it and went inside to get warmed up before the rest of this troupe got there. It was going to be a good show today, he could just tell.

 

* * *

 

The last note of the encore number rang through the theater as the Serendipity Dance Troupe held their final poses. The curtain dropped and the dancers continued to hold their positions for a beat before unwinding themselves and lining up amidst thunderous applause, waiting for the curtain to rise again.  
Jimin always loved this part of a show - when the house lights would come up and he could see the faces of the people he and his dancers had poured their souls out to. 

The curtain lifted upward and Jimin gracefully strode forward in an exaggerated ballet step to bow as the solo artist. Gesturing broadly with his arms outstretched he motioned for the other dancers to come forward and bow as well. Between bows Jimin looked out over the audience at all the smiles and leftover tear streaks and breathed deeply in satisfaction for a performance well received.  
While scanning the audience in a moment of self-indulgence to see if there were any faces that he recognized, a familiar set of features caught his eye and his breath caught in a hitch of fear as he felt the blood drain from his face so quickly he almost passed out. Remembering to bow only when one of his troupe members tugged on his hand, Jimin frantically scanned the audience again for a sign of that face, but if he had actually been in the audience, and there was no possible way he could have been, he was either standing directly behind someone, or he had left entirely because Jimin didn’t see him again.

Shaken and nauseous, it was all Jimin could do to not run to his dressing room after the curtain lowered for the final time. Walking at a controlled, if fast pace, he practically threw himself through the door once he got there; slamming it behind him and locking it like a child trying to shut out an imaginary monster.

 _That was not him. That was NOT him._ He repeated over and over to himself. _My mind is playing tricks on me, I am under a lot of pressure and am having a lot of new feelings and everything is fine._ He rubbed a shaking hand over his face and took a series of deep breaths.

After calming himself for a few moments, he pushed away from the door and went to get his change of clothes so he could take a shower. He’d had a lot going on lately - new responsibilities to juggle, new expectations, and even a bit of fame. It was only natural that his mind would deal with that kind of stress by making him see things that weren’t there.  
Once Jimin was reasonably certain that he had managed to avoid a full blown episode, he shook off the rest of his unease and went to go get ready for this night out with Yoongi. He had been excited about it for days and no sleep deprivation-induced hallucination was going to ruin his evening.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi pulled around to the back of the theater and parked along the wall of the building just behind the stage door. He’d been looking forward to this all week, but now that it was time to go, his nerves were back. He looked at his watch and, realizing that it would probably be a few minutes until Jimin came out, decided to calm himself a little so he didn’t make a total fool of himself. Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed his long woolen trench coat; dragging it with him as he opened his door and stepped out into the crisp evening air. He shut the driver’s door, put his coat on, and leaned back against the car as he pulled a soft pack of smokes from his breast pocket and tapped a cigarette out. Balancing the cigarette between his lips, he began to do the familiar self-pat down as he tried to remember which pocket his lighter was in.

“Will matches do?” came a voice from the stage door.

He paused mid-pat and looked up to see Hoseok coming down the concrete stairs as the stage door closed behind him. Yoongi took the cigarette out of his mouth and bowed as Hoseok approached. “CEO Jung, good to see you again,” he said, smiling as he held his hand out.

Hoseok answered the older man’s greeting with a smile of his own and shook his hand. “Please,” he said. “Call me Hoseok. CEO Jung is my father.”

Yoongi nodded and put the cigarette back between his lips as Hoseok fished a box of matches out of the bag that was slung across his chest. After pulling a match out and striking it, he held the small flame towards Yoongi with a hand cupped around it. Yoongi tilted forward to light the end of his cigarette and then leaned back against the car, inhaling deeply and waiting for the nicotine to calm the butterflies that were careening around in his stomach.

“Thanks,” he said on the exhale. “I never can remember where I put the damn thing.” 

“Sure thing,” Hoseok said as he blew out the match and walked around Yoongi to lean next to him on the car. “I have too many absent-minded smoker friends to not have some source of flame on me at all times so I’ve got your back.”

Yoongi chuckled and tried not to look like he was checking the door for the 5th time since Hoseok had exited it.

“He’s going to be a minute, you know,” Hoseok said with a teasing lilt to his voice. “The show only just ended and he still has to change and everything.”

Yoongi could feel his face redden and he looked anywhere but at his companion while he picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his coat. 

Hoseok observed him for a moment before giving an indelicate snort and repositioning himself against the car. “Oh man, you have it bad too. This is going to be fun to watch.”

Yoongi stopped messing with his coat and regarded the younger man. “Too?” he asked tentatively.

“Oh yeah,” Hoseok chortled gleefully. “Jimin has been going on about your…date? I don’t know if you’re calling it that but if he takes 40 minutes to decide which shirt to wear after the show, I’m going to say it’s a date. Anyway, he’s been going on about your little outing all week. I haven’t seen him this excited about something other than dance or Tandem in a while.” 

Yoongi continued to look at Hoseok; searching his face for…for what? He wasn’t sure, exactly, but the casual way that the other man had mentioned knowing Jimin’s dressing habits had made his chest tighten unpleasantly.

Hoseok caught Yoongi looking him over and a wide grin spread slowly across his face. “Tether the green-eyed monster, CEO. Jimin and I are very close friends as well as business partners, and we spend a lot of time together, but you have nothing to worry about from me. We’ve had our fun, from time to time, but I have no designs on our star dancer.”

The sincerity of Hoseok’s words loosened the bands around Yoongi’s chest and he had the grace to look embarrassed. “Apologies, Hoseok-ssi. I guess I’m not used to this either.”

The other man quirked an eyebrow. “I can tell,” he said cheekily. “No worries. I’m sure you two will whittle the night away just blissfully awkwarding at each other until everyone else around you runs away cringing. But really,” Hoseok said as he turned to lean back fully against the car again. “He might not be my lover anymore, but he is dear to me, so be nice to him.”

Yoongi cocked his own eyebrow and looked over at the younger man. “Is this the part where you threaten to kill me if I hurt him?”

Hoeseok laughed. “No, I usually like to have his other best friend here for that kind of talk so we can gang up on you all threatening like.” The smile faded from his face and he turned to lean his hip against the car so he could face Yoongi fully. “Seriously, though,” he said and the sudden gravity of his tone had Yoongi giving his companion his undivided attention. “Jimin is one of the strongest people I know, and he cares very deeply for the people in his life – you will, in fact, probably never be treated better than when you are cared for by Park Jimin. But he has been hurt. Badly. Maliciously hurt. Which is why I am saying this: People get hurt. Sometimes relationships can be painful, feelings can get bruised, things can be said that no one means…it’s just how human interaction works. So no, I am not going to ‘kill’ you just because you hurt him. However, if you hurt him for spite, for pettiness, or are in any way cruel to him, you will wish I killed you.”

The nonchalant laugh that Yoongi was going to give died before it left his mouth as he looked Hoseok in the eyes. The man was serious. In that moment, Yoongi had no doubt that things would go south for him very quickly if he mistreated his friend. He gave a curt nod. “I have no intention of hurting him, maliciously or otherwise. I don’t know what we have going yet, but I want to see where we end up with it. And I can already tell he is special.”

Satisfied with his response, Hoseok smiled at him and turned back to stare out across the parking lot.

Yoongi took another drag off of his cigarette and looked at the stage door again. He should be out any minute now.

 

* * *

 

Jimin walked out the stage door into the late afternoon sunlight and everything around him slowed way down for a moment. The sight of Yoongi leaning against his car with Hoseok, talking and laughing, his hands in the pockets of a long black wool coat, and a fantastic gummy smile on his face made Jimin’s breath catch and his heart ache in his chest. Gruff and businesslike Yoongi was hot to be sure, but relaxed and smiling Yoongi was like a punch to the gut.

 _Sweet fates, he is gorgeous._ Jimin thought as motion returned to his world and he started down the steps. 

Hoseok saw him first and waved at him; excusing himself from Yoongi, who had frozen where he stood and was openly staring at Jimin, before trotting over to his friend on the steps. “You kids have fun,” Hobi said with a smirk. “And go easy on the guy. He’s nervous.” Hoseok winked at Jimin with an unapologetic grin before going past him up the steps and through the stage door.

Jimin snickered at Hoseok’s antics and finished traversing the steps, stopping in front of Yoongi and offering a shy smile. 

“Hi,” he said softly. 

Yoongi managed to come out of whatever trance he was in and returned Jimin’s smile. “Hi,” he replied. “Are you ready to go?” He let his gaze wander over the man in front of him and seemed mildly confused by the combination of black skinny jeans and a blue dress shirt that Jimin was wearing with a pair of dress shoes.

Jimin felt heat start at the base of his neck as he fidgeted with his dance bag. “So, uh, you never said where we were going and I wasn’t sure what to wear. I figured if it were somewhere nice, I could tuck in my shirt and throw on a blazer, and if it were somewhere casual, I could change my shoes. Is that ok?” he asked, looking mildly concerned that Yoongi might find his planning ridiculous.

Yoongi’s face broke into a grin. “It is someplace kind of nice-ish,” he said with amusement. “But the blazer should be fine. You look great,” he added sincerely.

A hint of the blush tinted Jimin’s cheeks at the compliment and he chuckled a little. “Ok good. I mean, as long as we aren’t going to Trivina’s, right? I had the TV on in the dressing room and they said there was some kind of gas explosion in their kitchen and the whole restaurant is ablaze. The video footage is insane and I…is everything alright?”  
Jimin’s amused ramblings trailed off as he took in the stricken expression of the other man. “CEO Min, are you ok?” he asked again. 

Yoongi opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then closed it again as he seemed to search for the right words. “Well,” he said at last. “We were going someplace nice-ish. But I guess that particular option is out of the question, seeing as how the building we were going to be sitting in is currently impersonating a bonfire.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Were we actually going to go to Trivina’s,” he asked with an incredulous look.

“*Were* being the operative word here,” Yoongi said dryly. “We were actually going there, yes.”

Jimin seemed to have a hard time controlling his face for a moment before he apparently gave up and burst out laughing.  
“Oh my GOD I can’t believe that the place we were going is the ONLY RESTAURANT IN THE CITY that is currently on fire,” he tittered. “Only our luck is this bad I swear!” he said as he dissolved into giggles again.

 

* * *

 

When Jimin said that Trivina’s was closed, the first thing Yoongi did was brace for impact. He’d only managed to make them a reservation at one place and he didn’t have an actual backup plan for this evening at all, which was unlike him. He’d thought he was about to get berated for not thinking ahead, when Jimin’s face crumpled not into disappointment, but into…laughter? He was _laughing_? Jimin was guffawing so hard that he almost fell over where he stood. The laughter was contagious, though, and soon Yoongi was laughing along.

“Don’t worry, CEO, I have an idea for what we can to as an alternative,” Jimin said around the laughter that was still shaking him. “If that’s ok with you, I mean.”

Yoongi took one look at the man standing in front of him with a face full of a mischief and eyes sparkling with amusement and knew that he would follow him anywhere he wanted.

 

* * *

 

Jimin buckled himself into the passenger seat and then reached down for his dance bag to pull out a pair of black Timberland boots. Taking off his dress shoes, he slid his feet into the boots, making quick work of the laces, before putting the other shoes in his dance bag and tossing it in the back seat.

Yoongi watched in fascination as Jimin shimmied around under his seatbelt to change his shoes, and almost swallowed his tongue when the other man began unbuttoning his dress shirt. He was barely able to tear his eyes from the sight long enough to put the car in gear and pull away from the theater building; trying not to wreck from the distraction sitting directly next to him as he merged out into traffic.

“Don’t worry, CEO Min,” Jimin said with lingering amusement as he finished his task and settled back in his seat. “I have a t-shirt on under this.”  
After stopping for a red-light, Yoongi dared to glance back over to see the state of Jimin’s outfit and was both relieved and disappointed to note the dark grey t-shirt now framed by the blue button-up that had been hiding it. His relief was short-lived, however, as Jimin again shifted in his seat to readjust the seatbelt and the thin material of the undershirt clung to his body, outlining the shape of his abs and chest.

The impatient symphony of horns from cars behind Yoongi startled him and he realized that the light had been green for an undetermined amount of time. Hoping the shadowed interior hid the slight flush of his embarrassment, Yoongi gave the car some gas and told himself to calm the hell down. They had been in the car for all of five minutes and he was already tongue tied. “So where are we going?” Yoongi finally managed after taking a few breaths.

Jimin smiled and said, “To one of my favorite places that I haven’t gone to in a while. I hope you’re hungry, because they always give me a ton of food. Do you mind if I key it into the navigation?”  
Yoongi smiled back, unable to help himself, and reached over to hit the navigation icon on his dashboard. “Go ahead, since you aren’t telling me exactly what the destination is.”  
“A little mystery keeps things fun, don’t you think? Otherwise you’ll know my global domination plans ahead of time, and we can’t have that.” Jimin quipped and Yoongi could almost feel the building awkwardness pop like a bubble as they both laughed. 

The drive was a little farther than Yoongi had initially intended to go tonight, but even though it would have irked him ordinarily, he found himself not minding the travel time. Jimin was a fantastic conversationalist, and both men were delighted to discover how much they had in common among their interests in things outside the arts. Yoongi was so caught up in their exchange that he followed instructions as the mechanical voice of his car’s navigation system gave them, but didn’t really pay attention to where he was going. At last the voice announced that they had arrived at their destination, and Yoongi looked around at the quiet side street with confusion. _Where the hell are we?_ He wondered as he parked in a crumbling lot that was wedged between alleyways and turned off the car.

“This is actually the back of the building,” Jimin said, sensing Yoongi’s reluctance. He reached back for his dance bag and pulled a worn wallet out of a side pocket before setting the bag in the floorboard behind the driver’s seat. “We’ll have to walk around to the front door, but there is never any parking on the street up there, so this was probably the closest spot.” He opened the door and got out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of his incredible ass as he lifted the back of his shirts to stuff the wallet into the rather unforgiving back pocket of his skinny jeans. Jimin turned around and peered back down into the car. “Are you coming?”

Yoongi nodded wordlessly and opened his own door; taking off his wool coat once he was standing so he could remove his suit jacket and loosen his tie. “I’m probably overdressed now, aren’t I,” he said with a self-depreciating laugh.

“Yeah, maybe a little,” Jimin replied good-naturedly as he shut his door and came around to Yoongi’s side. “We could probably make you a little less stuffy-looking, though.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. “Who’s stuffy-looking?” he asked with mock indignation.

Jimin chuckled as he held out his hands. “You, CEO Min. But that’s ok, we can work on it. Give me your arm.”

Yoongi held an arm out and stuck his other hand in his pocket, congratulating himself for not gasping out loud when Jimin’s warm hands circled his wrists and unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. The sight of the other man’s head bent over his arm as he rolled the sleeves up to his elbow had Yoongi stupidly wondering what that view would look like from other angles. Sensing the observation, Jimin raised his head to look at Yoongi and froze with his fingertips still inside the rolled cuff of the sleeve when his gaze met the intense stare. Before he lost total control of himself and had his way with the tempting man in front of him against the side of the car, Yoongi cleared his throat and stepped back; bringing his other hand out of his pocket to roll up his own sleeves. 

_This man might actually be the death of me._ He thought as he finished with his sleeves, took his tie the rest of the way off, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Yoongi reached back in for his wool coat and shut the car door; locking it with a press of a button and stuffing the keys and tie in his pocket.

“Shall we?” he said; motioning for Jimin to lead the way.

 

* * *

 

 _The awkwardness is back._ Jimin thought disappointedly as he led Yoongi to the long flights of stairs that went up the alley between the buildings. _I’m not sure what I did, but CEO Min seemed to, I don’t know…withdraw a little? Ah well, it’s not as bad as it was, so at least there’s that._

Jimin was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice that his companion had stepped in front of him until he almost ran into him. He stopped in surprise to see Yoongi standing in his way at the base of the alleyway steps.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi said as Jimin looked at him. “I’m not trying to kill the light mood, I’m just…not very good at this and I’m afraid I will do the wrong thing. And I really don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

Jimin’s heart started to beat more heavily in his chest as he observed the quiet man in front of him and saw how lost he looked. He found Yoongi’s embarrassment and sincerity adorable, but he was not about to let him off without a laugh. Jimin pulled his eyebrows together and scrunched his nose as he leaned forward a little and stared intently at Yoongi’s forehead. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened a little and he reached his hand up to rub at the spot on his head where Jimin’s eyes were fixed. “What? What is it? Do I have something on my forehead?” he asked, mildly alarmed.

Jimin leaned back and regarded Yoongi thoughtfully. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just wondering if you were maybe a mind reader because I was trying to figure out why the mood changed and BAM…you volunteered the information.”

A smile ghosted around Yoongi’s mouth. “And what did you discover?” he asked teasingly.

“That you aren’t. Because otherwise the mental images I sent you would have made you react.”

“I see. What mental images would those be exactly?”

“That’s for me to know, since it turns out that you aren’t psychic. Now let’s haul our asses up these steps and get some food,” Jimin said lightly and he stepped around Yoongi and started climbing. He smiled to himself when he heard Yoongi chuckling behind him as he began his own ascent.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi wondered if there was a shrine he should visit so he could thank the spirits for allowing him to follow Park Jimin up a long flight of stairs. The incline of the steps was steep, but Yoongi had never been so happy to walk up a hill as he was right then while watching Jimin’s powerful ass and thigh muscles pull him upwards step by step. 

_I should probably also look into writing a thank you note to the inventor of skinny jeans while I’m feeling grateful._ He thought wryly. The way the soft jeans molded to Jimin’s legs had Yoongi thinking about what it would be like to have those thighs wrapped around him. _Stop it!_ He admonished himself. _This is only the first date! You need to get to know this man before you get all weird. Get. It. Together._

Yoongi gave himself a mental slap and though his brain was trying to comply, his body wasn’t listening. He once again thanked the fates for the shadows of the darkening alleyway, and for the luck that ensured that there was no one looking at him while he adjusted himself uncomfortably, and kept climbing the steps. At long last they reached the top and Yoongi only had to half-way pretend that the climb up had left him gasping from exertion. Jimin patiently waited for the other man to catch his breath before leading him out of the alleyway and into the street. 

The street itself was barely more than an alleyway; an offshoot of a main road tucked away behind several blocks of sprawling apartment buildings and tenement crammed side streets. This was a lower income section of the city than Yoongi was used to, but he couldn’t help but be enthralled by the bustle around him. Night was falling properly now, and the neon lights of the many business that were crowded onto this street were blinking on in various states of functionality. Delivery scooters wove in and out of pedestrians and sidewalk vendors at much higher speeds than was probably safe, and larger vehicles had to creep along a few feet at a time as the sheer volume of activity blocked their path. The street smelled like a combination of kimchi, fried food, industrial laundry soap, and engine oil. 

Yoongi’s senses were in overload trying to absorb it all and it took him a minute to feel the tug on the sleeve of his coat. 

“It’s great, isn’t it?” Jimin said once he had Yoongi’s attention. “The food place is just right over here.” He stepped out onto the narrow sidewalk and made his way towards a plain door decorated only with layers of peeling paint that was recessed under a dilapidated hanging sign that just said “Chicken.”

Jimin looked back to make sure Yoongi was following him before pushing the door open and disappearing into the interior of the shop. Yoongi entered close behind him and was amazed to see that the room was dimly lit and completely empty.

“Are you sure that…” He began, but Jimin cut him off without noticing.

“They used to have a door chime over here that made noise when a customer came in. I guess it’s broken.” He chuckled. “They do almost all of their business in deliveries so I think sometimes they forget they have a dining room. Come on.” Jimin said as walked between the few tables towards a swinging door in the back. 

Not knowing what to do with himself other than to follow, Yoongi moved towards the door as well. _There must be someone here somewhere._ He thought, noting the light that seeped from around the edges of the door and the muffled sound of multiple voices that came from behind it.

Without hesitating, Jimin pushed open the door, holding it for Yoongi to pass through before entering the bright kitchen. Jimin stepped around Yoongi and strode towards the bustling sounds of food preparation. The smell of seasoning and rich spices hit Yoongi like a truck and his stomach yelled to protest its emptiness. Damn, he was really hungry all of a sudden.

They rounded the corner and the room opened up into a space that seemed almost out of place in its environment. Giant stainless steel fryers had multiple batches of things going in them as side dishes were being prepped along the huge expanse of steel tables in the middle of the room. There were people everywhere; shouting at each other over the din of frying food and clanging pans, and tossing ingredients around between refrigerators, stovetops, and counters. A teenage girl sat at a stool along the wall and answered the constantly ringing phone, keying orders into a computer that sat on another stool in front of her, and yelling them out to the cooks on the prep line. Standing amidst the chaos at a large independent stove eye over a pot with something bubbling in it, a small middle aged woman in a flowery apron stood alternating between stirring the contents of the pot with an enormous wooden spoon, and yelling instructions to the people around her. 

Yoongi had never seen anything like it. Before he could comment, however, Jimin walked further into the room. “Ajumma!” he said in a loudly bright voice. The woman stirring the pot snapped her head around and her face broke out into a delighted grin. 

“Jiminie!!” she yelled, handing the spoon to one of the line workers and rushing forward to crush Yoongi’s companion in a fierce hug. “You sweet boy, we have missed you!” She pinched both of his cheeks softly in each hand and her brows knitted together. “Aigoo aigoo…look how much weight you have lost!” she tsked. “I told Yoona that you would stop eating well once you left and now look. Look how skinny you are. Omo!” She brought her hands down and started poking at his ribs.

Jimin laughed gently and caught her hands, pulling them away from himself, but continuing to hold them between his own. “Ajumma, we came here for food so you can fatten me up, if you’d like. I told my friend that this was the best place to eat and I was hoping we could occupy one of the tables in your dining room, if that’s ok.”

The woman eyed Yoongi, finally noticing his presence, and after a moment of scrutiny, nodded her head before giving her attention back to Jimin. “Of course, sweetie. Anything our Jiminie wants.” She pulled her hands away from Jimin’s and patted him on the arm before turning around and yelling back into the room. “YOONA,” she bellowed, startling the girl who was taking phone orders into almost falling off her stool.

“Yes ma’am?” the girl replied as she recovered her balance.

“Go get your sister and make up a nice table for our Jiminie and his handsome friend,” she ordered.

“Ajumma, you don’t have to go out of your way, we ca-, “ Jimin’s protest was cut short by a warning finger held up in his direction by the woman as she stared down her daughter. He pursed his lips together to hide his smile and looked over to Yoongi, his eyes glittering with laughter.

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back at the exchange; he was delighted with this more boisterous side of Jimin, and the people here clearly adored him. He wondered what the story was with this place. There was always a story.

The two girls left the kitchen and Jimin waved to them as they passed. After a few minutes, they came back in with menus and gestured for the men to follow them. Jimin looked over at the older woman and she grinned at them both; shooing them through the door as she went back to stirring her pot.

The contrasting quiet of the dining room was loud in Yoongi’s ears as they left the brightness of the kitchen. He felt rather than heard Jimin chuckling beside him and once his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room he understood why. A black plastic tablecloth, clearly left over from a catering event, covered a two person table in the corner of the room, and an emergency candle that had been stuck in a small glass and wedged on the bottom with napkins to make it stand upright flickered with a cheerful flame. The woman’s two daughters were standing at the table, waiting for the men to sit down.

Jimin walked to the table, and it was all Yoongi could do to keep a straight face as he followed his date to his seat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun and they hadn’t even had dinner yet. The girls attempted to hand them menus but Jimin just waved them away. 

“We’ll have one order of sweet, one order of spicy, and a double order of that ddeokbokki that Ajumma was making in the back, please.” He said.

The girls bowed and left the room to place the order as Jimin looked away from them to catch Yoongi staring at him.

A blush crept into his cheeks and then reddened rapidly as he realized what he’d just done. “Oh man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ordered for you, I don’t even know what you like.” Jimin said, mortified that he had been so inconsiderate. “I’m so sorry, CEO Min.”

Yoongi held up a hand and smiled at the other man’s discomfort. Could he be any more endearing? “First of all,” Yoongi said emphatically. “Drop some of the formalities. My name is Yoongi. Feel free to attach any moderate honorifics if you so choose, but I would definitely like for you to lose the ‘CEO’ bit.” he said. 

Jimin nodded his head to indicate understanding and waited for Yoongi to continue. 

“Second, I don’t mind you ordering for me since you clearly have experience with this establishment, and probably know all the best items on the menu. I’m not picky, I’ll eat pretty much anything, and I don’t have any food allergies. Ok?”

Jimin nodded again and looked relieved.

“Good.” Yoongi said as he settled back against his chair. “And just so you know, I intend to be less formal with you too, unless you have any particular objections to it.”  
Shaking his head, Jimin relaxed back against his own chair and crossed his arms. “No, I was actually going to ask you to drop the “CEO” title as well. For whatever reason it just makes my conversations with you seem so…”

“Impersonal?” Yoongi supplied.

“Yes, exactly that.” Jimin agreed with a smile. “Also, my only food allergy is shellfish,” he added.

“Noted, Jimin-ssi…or should I say, Jiminie-ssi…” the older man teased as Jimin’s blush returned and he looked embarrassed.  
_He blushes so easily._ Yoongi thought. _It is going to be so fun to see how many ways I can make him blush._ The implications of his mental wanderings hit him almost instantly and he almost blushed himself. _No no no stop it!_

“So, what is the story?” he asked aloud, trying to get his wayward thoughts back on track.

“Story?” Jimin questioned.

“The story of you and this place,” Yoongi clarified. “How do you know it or its people? Are you related?”

Jimin shook his head as Yoona brought out two glasses of water, two smaller glasses, and a bottle of soju. He thanked her and went back to answering Yoongi. “I used to live right up there when I first moved to Seoul” he said; gesturing vaguely in the direction where the tenement buildings were stuffed into the multitudes of side streets. “And I worked here part time while I attended the dance academy.”

He paused to pour a glass of soju for Yoongi before filling his own glass. 

“There were many times when Ajumma was the only person who kept me from starving, to be honest. They were all very good to me and I don’t get down here nearly often enough anymore.” Jimin raised his soju glass to Yoongi with an expectant look on his face. Yoongi clinked his glass against the other man’s and they threw back their shots, Jimin turning to the side.

Hissing through the burn of the alcohol, Yoongi tried to imagine young Jimin standing in that prep line getting yelled at by the owner. The mental image was a cute one, and Yoongi wondered if there were any pictures from that time.

“Plus,” Jimin went on, interrupting his thoughts as he poured another drink for each of them. “Ajumma makes some of the best fried chicken you have ever stuffed in your face. I will say, though, that the real hidden gem of this place is her ddeokbokki. You have never had ricecakes like hers before. Just wait.”

At those words, Yoongi’s stomach rumbled loudly and both men laughed and drank their next shots.

The evening wore on and Yoongi was forced to admit that Jimin had not been exaggerating. The chicken was good, really good, but the ddeokbokki was easily the best he’d ever had. Which, considering that it was one of his favorite snack foods, meant something. He would definitely be coming back.

They finished their food with none to spare and shared several bottles of soju between them, stretching their evening together out until Ajumma came with two more closed bottles of soju, compliments of the house, and express instructions to leave so she could close.

After goodbyes were said, and both men had been hugged by the owner, Jimin and Yoongi stumbled out into the street; laughing at each other’s drunkenness and trying to see who could stay upright.

“I think maybe we shouldah stopped after thefourthbottle.” Jimin slurred as he made his way towards the alley stairway that would lead back to Yoongi’s car.

“Nah,” Yoongi said and waved his hand in a broadly dismissive gesture. “Four bottles is a nightcap.” He grinned to himself as he stumbled after the other man. “Seven, though…seven bottles was prolly too many.”

Both men paused when they got to the top of the steps.

“Parking at the bottom of this was a dumb idea,” Yoongi said as he looked down the dizzying incline.

“It’ll be ok,” Jimin soothed absently as he gauged their descent. “There’s a wide landing halfway down and we can stop there for a rest if we gotta.” 

Yoongi nodded and tried to prepare himself. “Don’ like heights,” he said quietly. “Least not the ones I can fall down, or out of, or off of.” The warmth of Jimin’s hand sliding into his startled him.

“We’ll to it together. Slowly. You take the railing side and I’ll take the wall side. K?” Jimin said, looking at Yoongi with concern.

Yoongi’s heart constricted painfully as he met Jimin’s eyes. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said reverently, letting his gaze travel over the other man’s face. His eyes lingered on Jimin’s mouth for a moment, before his own eyes widened and he brought his unoccupied hand up to his mouth as he realized he’d voiced that thought out loud.

 

* * *

 

“Damn, you’re beautiful.” Yoongi said in a hushed tone and the sound of his voice wrapped around Jimin like a vise. He could feel his entire body blushing under the other man’s perusal, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run away from him, or jump him.

His reverie was broken, however, by Yoongi trying to pretend like he hadn’t just said that out loud. The older man looked down the steps again, and Jimin could see him swallowing nervously. Jimin hadn’t even thought about what would happen if they drank too much, he himself had traversed these steps while being three sheets to the wind countless times. It hadn’t occurred to him that it might be more of an obstacle to Yoongi, or that Yoongi might be afraid of heights. Jimin felt remorse churn in the pit of his stomach. He was such a jerk.

Jimin gripped Yoongi’s hand and brought the man’s attention back to him.

“One step at a time, ok?” he said, starting forward and pulling Yoongi along.

He felt a little resistance from Yoongi at first, but then he moved forward with him. They took the stairs slowly, pausing when one of them got dizzy, or to laugh at the other one stumbling, until they got to the landing half way down.

Yoongi let go of Jimin’s hand and leaned against the railing. “I need a minute, ok?”

Jimin nodded, needing a minute himself to recover from the sensation of Yoongi’s hand in his, as well as the dizzying descent so far. He used to be better at this.

Yoongi looked down the rest of the way towards the lot where his car was parked and let out a huff of frustration. He was going to call a cab, but he needed to get down there to get the rest of his and Jimin’s stuff. 

“Parking at the bottom was just so so dumb,” he said again with irritation.

Jimin felt his temper flare with pent-up frustration that mixed riotously with the alcohol he’d consumed. “Well I’m _sorry_ , Hyung, I didn’t intend for us to get fucking shwasted. That wasn’t the fucking plan, ok?” he said loudly as he gestured drunkenly to the alley they stood in. “So I’m sorry that we have to climb down these never-ending fucking steps, and I’m sorry that it fucking scares you, and I’m sorry tha-OOF” Jimin grunted as he found himself pinned against the brick wall behind him by a pair of hands on his shoulders.

Yoongi was pushing him back against the rough surface, his eyes burning with fury. “What did you say?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

Jimin was taken aback. “I…I don’t know…I…” he cast around frantically in his brain trying to see what might have tipped Yoongi from a happy drunk to a pissed off drunk. “Oh! Oh god I called you ‘Hyung!’ It’s too informal, I’m so sorry I-“

“No.” Yoongi said and Jimin thought it sounded like his voice had dropped impossibly lower. “I like that. You should always call me that.” 

He pressed Jimin’s shoulders harder into the wall, his arms shaking with anger, and Jimin felt a slow burn of desire begin low in his belly. Somehow he knew that Yoongi wouldn’t hurt him, but he was damned if he could figure out what had set him off. 

“I asked you. What. You. Said.” Yoongi growled.

Jimin’s brows knit in his own frustration. “I don’t know! I don’t fucking kn-“

“THAT.” Yoongi roared, startling Jimin out of the tirade that was beginning. “That right there.”

He took one of his hands off Jimin’s shoulder and cupped the younger man’s face with it; running his thumb around the edge of his lips. “How dare you,” he said in a near whisper that had Jimin holding his breath. “How dare you say that word with that sinful mouth of yours. Do you know what that does to me?” he asked desperately as he stepped closer to Jimin and let up on the pressure his hand had on the man’s shoulder. “Watching you eat tonight was torture. I have barely been able to keep it together. Do you know what that’s like?”

Jimin felt another tug in his abdomen and his head swam with desire and soju as he finally understood - Yoongi wasn’t mad at Jimin, he _wanted_ Jimin. Yoongi’s arms weren’t shaking with fury; he was at the razor edge of his control and losing ground fast. Leading with his head, Jimin pushed his torso away from the wall, forcing Yoongi to let up the pressure or use both hands to hold him back. Yoongi dropped his hands and stepped back from Jimin, watching to see what he would do.

“Which word, Hyung?” Jimin asked huskily as he stepped forward and leaned into Yoongi until they were only a breath away. “Fuck? Was that the word?” In the ambient glow from a faraway streetlamp Jimin watched the older man’s eyes dilate with longing and he tilted his head until his lips were barely grazing Yoongi’s; their bodies only the width of a thought apart. 

“Fuck.” Jimin whispered against Yoongi’s mouth as he opened his own and kissed him. 

Jimin poured everything he had been feeling over the past few hours into that kiss – the hitch of his breath the moment he saw Yoongi that evening, the striking figure that Yoongi made in a full suit with his hair slicked back, the beauty of his smile as they talked in the car, the way he smelled (Jesus the way he smelled), rolling Yoongi’s sleeve up his arm and having to resist the urge to stroke his skin, taking him to see his found family and hoping he would love them, the relief when he did love them, the way Yoongi relaxed as the night went on, the peek of collarbone from between the two undone buttons at the top of his shirt, the tousled sweep of his now messy hair as it flopped over his forehead, the desire to protect him when he said he was afraid of heights - EVERYTHING.

He wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck as he kissed him, sighing with pleasure as the other man slid his hands around Jimin’s torso; reminding him of the feel of those hands against his bare skin earlier that week in his dressing room. Yoongi pulled his head back from the kiss first, his breath coming in short pants and his eyes half-lidded with lust as he brought his hand up and cupped Jimin’s face again; sliding his thumb around the now-swollen lips. Jimin closed his eyes and leaned into that hand, turning his face to kiss the palm as it caressed him. Without thinking, he opened his mouth a little and bit into the meat of Yoongi’s hand, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the other man. 

Before Jimin could even react, Yoongi’s hand moved to wrap around Jimin’s throat, tilting his chin up, and putting gentle pressure on his adam’s apple. The switch was flipped again in Jimin’s head and he felt himself sliding into the blissful white noise of his submissive headspace, gasping as his arms fell from around Yoongi’s neck. 

Yoongi used the pressure of his hand on Jimin’s throat to guide him back against the wall, cushioning the back of his head with his other hand as he pressed him against the unforgiving surface. Removing his hand from between Jimin and the wall, Yoongi kept the pressure on his throat with his dominant hand and brought the other around to fist the side waistband of Jimin’s jeans to yank their hips together. Pressing himself up against Jimin, Yoongi ran his tongue along that sharp jawline until his mouth was at Jimin’s ear.

“What you are not going to do, Jimin,” Yoongi growled in a whisper, dropping all honorifics from the other man’s name, “is bite me. Not unless you are prepared to finish everything that comes with that action right here on the goddamned steps.” He took Jimin’s earlobe between his teeth and Jimin could feel his legs shaking as he fought not to beg for exactly what Yoongi was promising.

“Hyung…” Jimin said on a breathless sigh, unsure of what he was about to ask for, but knowing he had to have some kind of relief from the ache that wound his body tight.

Yoongi slid the hand on Jimin’s throat around between his head and the wall and fisted a handful of his thick hair; angling his head before taking his mouth in a rough claiming, his tongue penetrating Jimin’s mouth when he gasped from the onslaught. Releasing Jimin’s waistband, Yoongi grabbed the other man’s hand and pressed it firmly against the bulge of his pants. 

“Do you feel this?” he asked roughly through his assault on those addictive fucking lips as he rubbed himself against Jimin’s hand. “Do you feel what you do to me? I have only to think about you and I get hard. Why am I like this with you?” he asked desperately as he pulled Jimin’s hand from between them and pulled it around his neck, sliding his hand down Jimin’s arm and around his torso to wrap him in as tight of an embrace as he could. 

Tearing his mouth away from Jimin’s was painful and he buried his face in the crook of the smaller man’s neck and stood gasping as though his his lungs were screaming for air.

Jimin tried to breathe past the lust that was roaring through his body as he clung to Yoongi, trembling from head to toe under the force of his attraction to this man. He had never wanted someone so much in his entire life and he was certain that once he could think again, that was going to terrify him.

For now, though, they remained wound together, supporting each other as they tried to recover.

Eventually, Jimin reluctantly reached his hand up to stroke Yoongi’s hair.

“Hyung,” he said softly. “Hyung, we need to get the rest of the way down these steps if we are going to leave at all tonight.”

Yoongi pulled back and looked at the man in his arms for a moment before nodding. “You’re right,” he said. “This is not the place to start this. But please know that we will start this. And finish it too,” he mumbled as he kissed Jimin’s bruised lips gently and rubbed their noses together. “But not until I have you in my bed. Ok? Not until then.”

Jimin took a shaky breath and nodded. “Ok,” he agreed.

Yoongi smiled at him and pulled back, grasping Jimin’s hand tightly before starting once more down the steps.

The rest of the trip down passed in a fog for Jimin, and he had to try twice to calm himself down enough to call a cab and get his things from Yoongi’s car.

As the cabs for both men arrived, Yoongi kissed his finger and pressed it to Jimin’s lips.

“I’ll call you,” he said; his own kiss-swollen lips breaking into a satisfied grin. “And just so you know,” he called over his shoulder as he opened the door of the cab and got in. “You aren’t single anymore.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Author's Note***  
> This is an extra long chapter for you lovelies as a holiday gift. I may write longer chapters again in the future if the story calls for it. Thanks again for reading! <3

_Terror._  
_The slap of bare feet against a concrete floor._  
_Bloodied soles leave footprints to follow._  
_Have to wrap them._  
_Have to hide._  
_**jiiiiminnnnnn.**_  
_No no NO._  
_I’m back in the room._  
_No no not the room how did I get here…_  
_**i told you not to leave. what did you think would happen?**_  
_Please I’ll do anything just please not again._  
_**idiot boy. you think you can get away. but you CHOSE this, remember?**_  
_No!_  
_**you did. you did, jimin.**_  
_I can’t!_  
_**here just drink this and you will remember. you’ll remember how much you love it.**_  
_I DON’T FUCKING LOVE IT DON’T GODDAMNED TOUCH ME._

__

____

_Choking._  
_He’s drowning me._  
_Help._  
_Someone help me._  
_Help me he’s going to kill me._  
_**you won’t drown if you just swallow it, idiot boy. stop fighting it so much and it will go down easier.**_  
_No please, please don’t_  
_Swallowing…_  
_**there now**_  
_It’s so bitter why is it always so bitter…_  
_**that’s it. drink all of it. it’s not so bad.**_  
_it’s not so bad once you start drinking it…_  
_my body feels so warm now_  
_look at this blood_  
_why is there blood, am I bleeding?_  
_**do you feel better now, Jimin?**_  
_Mmmhmmm_  
_**do you remember now? do you remember how you love it?**_  
_I love it_  
_i…love you…_  
_**i know, idiot boy. i love you too. otherwise I wouldn’t play with you.**_  
_play with me…_  
_**oh we will play, don’t worry. i always give you what you need.**_  
_Wait…._  
_Wait NO…_  
_WAIT NO…_  
_WAIT_

____

“NO!!” Jimin shot out of bed and fell to the floor in a tangle of sheets. He felt the bile rising in his throat as he tore away from the binding bedclothes, barely making it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach on a sob. He crouched shaking over the toilet, the wracking heaves tearing themselves from his body as he wept uncontrollably, utterly alone in his misery. He gagged over and over after his stomach was empty, his mind trying to physically rid itself of remembered toxins as it flooded his system with adrenaline. 

When he was done retching he collapsed weakly to the floor, resting his head against the cool tiles and curling into a protective ball as he tried to pull himself back into the present.  
_It was just a dream._  
_He can’t hurt me anymore._  
_I’m not sick._  
_I’m not sick._  
_I’m not….I’m not sick…_

Jimin pulled his legs up tighter to his chest as tears poured silently down his face and he cried himself back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The breeze blew the top of his hair in a gently rhythmic cadence, brushing warmly against his head in soft puffs as Jimin slowly swam back to consciousness.

_Warm breeze? But it’s nearly winter…_

Jimin’s eyes snapped open inches away from a swath of blue and white stripes that were rising and falling in a shallow movement. Blinking through the haze of sleep, he tried to touch the pattern only to find that his arms were restricted by a warm weight that seemed to wrap all the way around him. Fighting the touch of panic that threatened to rise, Jimin raised his head to where the blue and white colors ended in a shirt collar and the smooth skin of Taehyung’s throat began. Relaxing, Jimin felt his lungs expand with a full breath as the anxiety subsided and he took stock of his position.

From the feel of it, he was laying on his bed on his left side with his arm pinned under him. He was curled up with his forehead almost touching Taehyung’s chest - the taller man’s arm and leg were thrown over Jimin’s with his chin just above Jimin’s head as he draped around him in sleep. Jimin closed his eyes in the familiar circle of his friend’s arms and smiled to himself. Taehyung had always needed something to cuddle while he slept, be it person, pillow, or stuffed animal, and Jimin had more than once found his personal space invaded when camping with their classmates or sharing a room when they were first on their own. 

Shrugging his shoulders to try and dislodge the arm that pinned his upper body, Jimin wriggled a little until he could get free without waking Taehyung. He lightly removed the arm and leg that held him down, scooting away from the sleeping form until he could swing his legs over to sit on the edge of his bed. With a yawn he got up, slipped his feet into his house shoes, and shuffled to the bathroom.

Jimin hit the switch for the bathroom and squinted blearily at his reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. The dark circles under his eyes looked like bruises and tiny red spots of broken blood vessels dotted the skin at the tops of his cheeks. He stared in confusion for a moment before memories of barreling into this room in the middle of the night came sliding to the front of his mind. The sore muscles of Jimin’s abdomen cramped as a reminder of how sick he had been, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead as residual tendrils of his nightmare passed cold fingers along his spine.

With shaking hands, Jimin turned the handle of the spigot and ran warm water over his fingertips for a moment before reaching for the facewash and beginning his morning routine. Once his skin care was finished, he brushed his teeth over and over again, scrubbing the inside of his mouth to scrape out the lingering taste of vomit and fear. Going through the motions of his routine calmed him; chasing away the last of his anxiety and bringing him fully awake. The gleaming white tile of the bathroom floor brought to mind how he had fallen asleep last, and he tried to remember how he had gotten from there to his bed.

_Taehyung?_

Leaving the bathroom, Jimin walked back into his room and looked at the man who was dead to the world in his bed. Having noticed the absence of his cuddle buddy, Taehyung had wrapped himself around the closest pillow and had burrowed down into the blankets until only the top fluff of his hair was visible. Laughing quietly at the wad of sleep that was his friend, Jimin slipped from the room and padded down the short hallway to the kitchen. Once the coffee was brewing for him and the electric kettle had been started for Taehyung, Jimin took a few minutes to stretch some of the aches from his body; wincing at the tenderness of his stomach as he extended his muscles in an attempt to loosen them up.

Feeling more like himself after a few stretches and light exercises, Jimin poured a cup of coffee and pulled out the strong tea he kept just for Taehyung; measuring rice and water into the rice-cooker, and lighting a stove eye before setting a pot of water over it for instant soup. Picking up the steeping tea, he wandered back to his bedroom where his best friend in the whole world was wrapped up in his comforter like a burrito. Jimin pulled the covers away from the other man’s face and held the cup of tea under his nose.

“TaeTae…” Jimin said softly, fondly tucking a wayward lock of hair away from Taehyung’s forehead. “Hey man, you need to get up.”

Jimin kept the cup by his friend’s face with one hand and poked him in the shoulder with the other.

“Tae,” Jimin said in a louder voice. 

“Taehyung!” he called, poking him again and pushing a little. “Get uuuuuup.”

Taehyung sleepily cracked one eye open.

“Mmpff,” he grunted and tried to burrow back into blankets.

Jimin grinned and set the mug on his side table. Grabbing the covers with both hands, Jimin jerked them off of his friend before pouncing on him and snaking his hands into Taehyung’s armpits to tickle him mercilessly. 

“TAEHYUNGIEEEEE,” he warbled loudly. “YOU SHOULD GET UPPPPP NOWWWWWW.”

Taehyung started flailing as he came awake; all limbs and tangling blankets as he tried to throw Jimin off.

“Hyunnnnnnnnnnnng…..” Taehyung whined groggily, finally shoving the other man far enough away to allow him to sit up. He rubbed his eyes until Jimin’s unapologetic smirk came into focus and Taehyung threw the pillow that he’d been cuddling at his face. Jimin knocked the flying pillow out of the way, grabbed the hand that had thrown it, and put the steaming mug of tea in it.

“Get up and come have breakfast,” Jimin said as he left the room.

He went back into the kitchen where the water on the stove was boiling cheerfully and added the instant soup mix and some dumplings to the pot. The shambling sound of a barely mobile Taehyung scuffled into the room and Jimin smiled at him as he flopped down on a stool, set his cup down, and laid his head on the bar. 

“Mornings are difficult,” Taehyung muttered dismally.

Jimin reached over the counter to tousle his hair. “I know,” he said sympathetically, “but I have to head to the theater in a couple of hours and I thought you might want to eat something.”

Taehyung nodded and raised his head as he reached for the mug. “I’m starving, so yeah.” He eyed his friend for a moment as he sipped his tea. “How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously.

Jimin shrugged as he pulled bowls out of the cabinet and went to the fridge for some side dishes. “Ok now, I guess,” he said nonchalantly. “What time did you get here?”

“Around 7:00am, I think,” Taehyung replied as he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “I thought when you didn’t answer the door that maybe you had just forgotten that I was supposed to bring over some things for you to try so you could decide what you wanted to wear to Kookie’s album release party. I’m glad I have a key, though. Otherwise you’d be on the bathroom floor still.”

Jimin looked embarrassed. “I actually did forget that you were coming over this morning. I had a um…date…last night and it went longer than expected,” he said as his face reddened and he turned himself away from the other man to check the soup on the stove.

Taehyung regarded his friend with a frown. “Was it with the person that you like? The person that you were telling me about?” He got up and walked around the bar to stand behind Jimin. “Did he fuck with you, Hyung?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

Jimin shook his head and continued stirring the pot. “It’s not like that. I told you, I am just…having trouble adjusting to feeling like this, is all.”

Taehyung put his hand on Jimin’s shoulder and turned him around until they were facing each other. “Are you sure? That was a bad episode. You were really damn sick, man,” he said, brows creasing with worry as he looked Jimin over. “I haven’t seen you like that in a while.”

Jimin reached up to where Taehyung’s hand rested on his shoulder and patted his friend. “I am sure, Tae. This is probably normal, considering…well, just considering. In fact…um…well he sort of asked me out officially last night. Maybe ‘asked’ isn’t the right word…anyway, we are dating now, I guess. So it’s ok. Really.” 

After searching Jimin’s face for a moment, Taehyung nodded and released his shoulder; crossing his arms over his chest and quirking an eyebrow. “So you have a boyfriend, huh? You know this shindig for Kookie allows a plus one. You should bring him.”

Jimin blanched and almost dropped the spoon he was holding. “W-well I don’t know if he…if he would want to.” he stammered, flustered. “I...I mean we just started dating and I don’t know if he w-“

“No, shut up.” Taehyung said, putting up a hand. “You guys are dating now and need to do couple things. Plus, you are going to need to be around people who know you and know what you have been through in case you need…you know…help. Just while you figure things out.”

Jimin nodded slowly as he considered Taehyung’s words. “I guess you are right,” he said at last.

The younger man rolled his eyes. “Duh. Obviously I am right,” he said as he went back around to his barstool so Jimin could serve the food. 

“Promise me you will ask him. Like today, Hyung.”

“Ok, ok I promise!” Jimin laughed as he set Taehyung’s bowls in front of him. “I can’t promise that he will agree to attend, though.”

“Pfft. He’d better.” Taehyung as he scooped up a spoonful of rice and dunked it in his soup. “Or else he will have the Wrath of Tae descend upon him like the fury of a thousand ants - all crawly and bitey and impossible to escape.”

Jimin snorted as he came to sit beside his friend and dig into his own food. “I will let him know that his very life is in peril should he refuse.”

“Good,” Taehyung said, mollified. “I’d hate for your new relationship to end because someone suddenly had a bad case of being missing.”

 

* * *

 

Yoongi looked at his phone for the hundredth time that morning.

_I told him I would call him…should I do that now? Is less than 12 hours too soon? Is there a manual for this ridiculousness? I have never in my life wondered if I should call someone, I just do it…like a normal person. Good grief, it’s like high school all over again._

He sighed and scruffed at his chin with his hand, leaning back in his chair to look at the pile of contracts that his lawyer had approved and sent through for his review. He had paperwork for fifty-two new authors and small magazine companies who may or may not become part of Holly Publishing, and all Yoongi could think about was the man who had shattered every bit of his calm the night before on the steps of a narrow alley behind a dingy side street.

The buzz of the intercom pulled him abruptly from the pleasant memories of last night and sat him firmly back at his desk. Resigned to spending the day slogging through paperwork, Yoongi pulled the first file from the top of the stack and absently slapped the answering intercom button on his desk phone as he began rifling through the contract.

“Ne?”

“Apologies Sir,” the voice of his secretary came briskly through the speaker, “but CEO Shin is here to see you.”

Shin Suran, CEO of Far Away Records, was an old friend of his and the momentary distraction would be a good excuse to spend a few more minutes not reading contracts.

“Thank you, Bom-ssi. You can send her in.”

The door to his office clicked as the lock was disengaged from the outside and Suran strode into the room on impossibly high heels; wearing a fashionable jumper that looked like someone had cut it from the upholstery of some halmoni’s couch. Yoongi smirked to himself and had to admit that he had little sense when it came to the trendiest fashions, but Suran looked good in pretty much anything so she somehow pulled the eye-bleeding pattern off.

Suran helped herself to one of the chairs in front of Yoongi’s desk and held a cup of coffee out to him from his favorite café down the street.  
“Still just black coffee for you, right?” She asked as she set her handbag in the other chair.

Yoongi gratefully accepted the caffeinated beverage and nodded. “Yep,” he said as he took a sip. “You know me, I don’t really change much.”

“True. Although I was going to say you aren’t usually an at-the-office kind of guy, but it seems to be review time for you so I guess it’s not so strange that you’re here,” she said, eyeing the precariously balanced stack of files on his desk.

He sniffed and sipped at his coffee. “Yes, well, I am still the CEO so I have to show up occasionally,” he said. “Speaking of which, what brings you by?”

Suran shifted in her chair and crossed her legs. “Well, I was in the area and thought I would see if you wanted to go to lunch but…you might want to order in, if you plan to get through all of these today,” she replied as she gestured to the pile.

“Oh yeah!” she snapped her fingers as she remembered. “I am going to a charity benefit this weekend and can bring a plus one. Interested?”

Yoongi regarded his friend from across the desk. “Charity benefit?”

“Yep.”

“Good cause?”

“Underprivileged kids and education and whatnot.”

“Press?”

“They will be there, I’m sure.”

“Pass.”

Suran pursed her lips and pinned Yoongi with a stare. “It wouldn’t kill you to be seen in public once in a while, you know.”

“I mean, it might.”

“Oh please,” Suran said, rolling her eyes. “It’s just a benefit. And the money really is going to a good cause”

“I’ll send a check.”

“It’s being hosted by Jeon Jungkook as part of his album release extravaganza whatever that he is doing. Did I mention that? I know you like his music.”

“I do like his music. Very much. But that doesn’t mean I have to stick my face in a camera to prove it. Thanks for your invitation, I will have to respectfully decline.”

“Fine, fine,” she said as she laughed and stood from the chair. “I just thought I would ask. Hit me up if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“I know,” she said fondly as she left. “I’ll let you get back to your bureaucratic bumbling, then.” 

“I do not bumble, thank you,” Yoongi said with mock indignation, “bureaucratically or otherwise.”

Opening the office door, Suran chuckled. “Did you forget that we used to date? I know better.”

Yoongi threw his pen at her good-naturedly and it sailed harmlessly past her head. “That was a long time ago, smart ass.”

Suran pulled the door most of the way closed before poking her face back in. “But you said you didn’t change…” she ribbed and closed the door firmly behind her as another pen went flying towards it.

Yoongi smiled and picked up the discarded contract. Suran was always good for a laugh and he was glad that they had remained friends after their unsuccessful attempt to be more than that. His mood had improved with the brief visit and life-giving coffee, and he settled in to begin the reviews in earnest.

He had been working steadily for about half an hour when his cell rang. Setting the contract down, he pulled the phone from his pocket and almost dropped it when he saw Park Jimin’s name on the caller ID. Yoongi took a minute to get his breathing under control before answering the phone in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

“Yeoboseo?”

“Hello, CEO Min. This is…this is Park Jimin.”

“Hello, CEO Park, it is nice to hear from you.” Yoongi rocked back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Tell me, do you suffer from short term memory loss? Because I distinctly remember us deciding last night that you would be calling me something different.”

“Oh, um…hello, H-Hyung.”

Yoongi smiled into the phone and lost the playfully stern tone. “Hello, Jiminie-ssi,” he said warmly and he could almost hear the other man’s blush through the phone. 

“I know you said you would call me,” Jimin began nervously, “and I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, but I wanted to know if you were busy this weekend.”

Yoongi sat forward. “I am not, actually. Why, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, there is a charity function on Saturday that I am going to and I was…wondering if you, um…would like to…go with me,” Jimin replied, halting a little through his words.

Yoongi stifled a sigh. “Charity function, huh?”

“Yes. It’s being hosted by Jungkook, the singer. I don’t know if you are a fan or not,” Jimin rushed to explain, “but the event proceeds are actually used to help people.”

Yoongi stood up, walked to one of the big bay windows in his office and looked out over the city. “Ok, I’m listening. What is the charity for?”

All hesitation left Jimin’s voice as he pitched the benefit. “It’s for multiple charities, actually. They were already established as separate entities, but then they came together to form a network that helps kids who are orphans, or from low-income families, get going on their education,” he clarified. “They provide scholarships to good schools, tutoring to help them catch up if they haven’t been going to school, and mentoring in a field that they chose so that they have a better shot at getting into the college they want.”

Yoongi paced in front of the window as Jimin talked passionately about the work being done. 

“I know there are always benefits for one thing or another,” Jimin said, “and it seems like most of them are just excuses for wealthy people to feel good about themselves while spending a fortune on an outfit, but Hyung, the work that ConnectAll is doing is seriously making a difference. In fact, the wait staff at the event will all be people who were part of the network but are now in college and working part time in jobs that they got through the program.”

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?” Yoongi asked into the quiet that followed Jimin’s speech.

“It is. It really, really is.” Jimin said with honest conviction. “There will probably be press there, at least outside the venue, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but you should consider donating at le-“

“I’ll go,” Yoongi interrupted.

“Oh. You _will_? Oh man, that is so great!” Jimin said excitedly. “Um…I mean,” he cleared his throat, “that is nice that you want to go…”

Yoongi laughed at the other man’s attempt to pretend like he wasn’t almost squeaking with delight. “Yes, I’ll go. When did you say it was? Saturday night?”

“Yes!”

“Ok, then. Saturday night it is. Text me the event info and I will come pick you up.”

“I will! This is great, Hyung, I can’t wait. Seokjin-Hyung and Namjoon-Hyung will be there too, by the way.”

Yoongi smiled. “Well that’s even better. So it’s a date then?”

Jimin made a small noise that sounded a little like a cough. “Yeah…I guess it is a date then.”

Yoongi could picture the tinge of pink that would be gracing Jimin’s cheeks right about now and had to exert physical effort to keep himself from demanding that Jimin bring his adorable, beautiful face there so he could squish it.

“Oh also, Hyung,” Jimin’s voice refocused Yoongi’s musings. “I have shows tonight and to tomorrow night but then we are on hiatus for almost three weeks before the second run starts. Do you…I mean would you be opposed to…do you um…want to have lunch one day this week?”

Yoongi had to take the phone away from his ear so he could bang his head quietly but firmly against the window. Jimin’s on and off shyness was going to be his undoing. 

“Sure,” he said as he brought the phone back up. “I am swamped this week, though. I usually work from home, but every so often I have to actually come in to take care of things. I probably won’t be able to go out anywhere for lunch, realistically.”

“Oh,” Jimin said a little dejectedly. “Ok, well I don’t want to interrupt you if you have things you need to do.”

“I don’t really have time to leave, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have lunch, if you don’t mind eating here at the office. I can have food ordered.” Yoongi said, not wanting to disappoint.

“I don’t mind at all,” Jimin said with enthusiasm. “As long as I am not eating at the theater for the five millionth time this month I couldn’t care less where we are. And don’t bother ordering out, I’ll bring food.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi said with a grin. “It’s _another date_ , then. How does Wednesday sound for our lunch?”

 

* * *

 

“This looks ok, right?” Jimin held up a slice of kimbap for Seokjin to inspect.

“Yep, perfect.” Jin nodded approvingly. “Just make sure you re-wet the knife edge once in a while if you are cutting more than a few pieces. Otherwise the seaweed will tear instead of cut.”

Jimin nodded his acknowledgement as he concentrated on his task. “I think this is the last one anyway. I really appreciate you coming over to help, Jin-hyung,” he said; placing the last piece of kimbap into the lunchbox and covering it with a lid. He looked at the two boxed lunches he’d made and felt more than a little satisfied with how they had turned out. “I could not have done this nearly as well without you.”

Jin smiled at his friend as he finished wiping down the counter and put his suit coat back on. “I didn’t really do much, other than give you a few instructions. You did the rest on your own. I think CEO Min will appreciate it, regardless.”

Praise from the older man always made Jimin feel special. He and Namjoon really were like the older brothers he’d needed growing up, and their support never failed to give him the warm fuzzies. 

Jimin slung his bag across his chest and picked up the lunchboxes as he went to the entryway to slip on his shoes. Jin sat on a bench to retie his own shoes and then opened Jimin’s door so they could head outside.

“I have meetings this afternoon so I am going downtown anyway. Would you like for me to drop you by Holly Publishing?” Jin asked as they exited the courtyard and stood together on the sidewalk. 

“Sure, hyung, that would be great.” Jimin said as he followed Seokjin to the car.

The two men rode in companionable silence until Jin noticed that Jimin was fidgeting and trying to hide it. “Are you nervous?” he asked. “This isn’t your first date or anything. I wouldn’t think you’d be anxious about it.”

“Well no, but it is only our second date,” Jimin answered distractedly as he picked at a loose thread on the bag that held the lunch boxes. “And it’s our first time seeing each other since…”

“Since CEO Min declared you boyfriends?” Jin supplied with a grin.

Jimin chuckled “Yeah. Since then,” he said with shy amusement. 

“I have to say, I didn’t see you and CEO Min becoming a thing,” Seokjin commented, “but I like it. Min-ssi is a good guy. Namjoon and I really like him.”

Jimin made a non-committal sound and looked up to stare out the window.

They stopped at an intersection and Jin studied his friend while he waited for the light to change. “Something is bothering you,” he said after a minute. “Spill.”

Jimin glanced over at Seokjin and gave him a quick smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s nothing, Hyung. I am just tired. It’s been a crazy couple of months.” He turned his head and looked back out the window.

“Nothing my well-toned ass.” Jin said skeptically as the moved through the intersection with the flow of traffic. “I know that look, Jiminie. You are all in your head right now. Talk to me, tell me why.”

Jimin was quiet for a long stretch before answering in a muted tone. “I’m just…” he began. “I’m worried.”

“Worried? About what? You haven’t been around each other much yet, what has you troubled? Did CEO Min do something that made you uncomfortable?” Jin asked, concern furrowing the skin between his brows.

“No, no nothing like that,” Jimin replied with a wave of his hand. “Everyone always thinks he is the problem. The issue is me.”

“How so?”

Jimin sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “I like him. And by ‘like him’ I mean I really like him. We don’t know each other all that well yet, but being around each other is just…instantly explosive.”

“So you’re worried because you have chemistry?” 

“Not just chemistry, Jin-Hyung,” Jimin tried to explain. “We have…well I don’t know what we have, but it is difficult to focus on things or keep my hands to myself when we are together.”

Jin peered over at the younger man as he attempted to grasp what Jimin was trying to tell him. “So you like him as a person, but you also want to get naked with him and that scares you? Why? It’s not like you haven’t been naked with people before. I’ve never known you to be bashful about sex, Jiminie. What’s different now?”

“What’s different now is that he touches me, just touches me, and I immediately slip into subspace. All the fucking way,” Jimin said desperately as he ran both hands through his hair again.

The silence in the car was deafening.

“Oh,” was all Jin could manage. “Like all the way? Like-“

“Yes exactly fucking like that,” Jimin interrupted. “There has only ever been one other person who could do that to me and this is scaring me shitless.”

“Jimin-ssi, maybe you should re-think this, then,” Seokjin said seriously. “It took you a long time to get as far as you have gotten after all that.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Jimin snapped as he angled his body towards the other man. “I know how fucked up I am and I am terrified that I am going to fall for this man and then I am going to have to tell him…everything…”  
The anger seeped out of his voice as his words trailed off, leaving him feeling hollow.

“Jiminie,” Jin began carefully, “I know you have been having episodes again and I…well have you…”

“No,” Jimin cut him off curtly, fisting his hands in the knots of the lunch bags. “No, I haven’t. And fuck you for asking.”

“You know what?” Seokjin returned angrily. “No. Don’t you get snippy with me, Jimin-ssi; I am allowed to ask if you are ok. And fuck you for being mad about it when I need to know because I care about you.” 

Jimin looked at the clenched line of Jin’s jaw as he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and instantly felt remorse.

“I’m sorry, Seokjinie-hyung,” he said softly. “I know you are just looking out for me.” He settled back into his seat and once again ran a hand through his now thoroughly tousled hair. “None of this is Yoongi-hyung’s fault either. He has no idea about any of this…about how broken I am. If this keeps going the way it is I guess I will have to tell him though, huh?” Jimin chuckled mirthlessly. “Leave it to me to mess things up.”

Seokjin pulled up in front of the Holly Publishing building and put the car in park before turning towards the younger man and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t broken, Jiminie. You are just still recovering from a series of really fucked up moments in your life. You will probably always be recovering in one way or another.” He patted Jimin’s shoulder as the other man looked at him. “Just remember that you don’t have to fight by yourself. I wasn’t kidding about CEO Min; he’s a good guy. If you feel this getting serious, you tell him. Tell him everything, ok?”

Jimin took a deep breath and nodded. “Ok.”

“But for now,” Jin said with a smile. “Go have a lunch date with your boyfriend. Enjoy his company and don’t fight the chemistry you feel with him. That kind of connection is special. And if you feel yourself losing control that you want to keep ahold of, tell him to stop. If you feel yourself losing any other kind of control, you call me or Namjoonie, or Taehyung, or Hobi, or anyone. You can do this.”

Jimin gave a small but genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes this time.  
“Thanks, Seokjinie-hyung. Thank you for being there for me.”

“You’re welcome. Now get out, I have a meeting to get to,” Jin replied with a grin.

 

* * *

 

Jimin stepped out of the elevator on the 30th floor of Holly Publishing and took a steadying breath. The building was seriously impressive and everything about it had Jimin feeling out of his depth; the guards in the lobby had held out a permanent access pass before he’d even told them his name, for christ’s sake. Intellectually he knew that Yoongi was the CEO and founder of Holly Publishing, one of the biggest book distributors in the country, but it was more than a little disconcerting to actually stand in the opulent headquarters and see it firsthand. 

The elevator closed behind him as he walked towards two frosted glass doors that had Yoongi’s name and position etched in silver on them. Plush, dove-grey carpet muffled Jimin’s footsteps as he approached the desk that sat in the middle of the room in front of the office; currently occupied by an adorably petite woman who was listening to someone on the phone and typing efficiently on a computer. Before he could open his mouth to ask for Yoongi, the woman at the desk smiled at him and reached for a button that made the doors behind her click when she pressed it. She inclined her head pleasantly and waved him towards the inner office before turning back to her task. Jimin gave her a slight bow as he passed her desk and pushed open the office door.

Yoongi’s office was very much like its owner; beautiful but understated, quietly powerful but not at all ostentatious. The room itself was massive, stretching out in floor to ceiling built-in bookshelves that ran along both walls to either side of the doorway and continued around the entirety of the left wall. The bookshelves on the right wall were broken up by two solid doors that looked like the same wood as the shelves themselves, and large bay windows overlooking the city made up the back of the office. The hushed whisper of the heating and air system hummed quietly through the room and the soft carpet combined with the recessed lighting in the ceiling gave it a professionally cozy feel, in spite of its size. An oversized mahogany desk sat towards the back of the room with two plain leather-covered chairs sitting in front of it. Yoongi sat behind the desk with stacks of paper spread out before him, checking whatever was on them against his computer screen and writing notes in the margins.

The door closed noiselessly behind Jimin, the thick carpet dampening the sound, and he took a moment to observe the beauty of the man who was so engrossed in his work. Yoongi had draped his suit jacket across the back of his chair at some point, and his normally perfectly placed tie had been loosened until it sat slightly askew. His white-blond hair was slicked back in its usual style and the turn of his head as he rifled through the papers threw his angled jawline into sharp relief. Jimin swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat as he stared at the person before him, momentarily overwhelmed by how attractive he was. He shook himself out of his reverie and reached behind him to rap knuckles on the glass door.

Yoongi’s head shot up at the sound, and the smile that spread across his face had Jimin’s heart constricting in his chest as their gazes collided. He walked forward as Yoongi set his papers down and stood; coming around the desk to meet him in the middle of the room. Yoongi’s eyes drank in Jimin’s face as he approached and he threw his arms around the smaller man without preamble. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said sweetly. “You could not have come at a better time; I think my eyes were in danger of permanently crossing if I had to look at those damn contracts for another minute.”

Jimin laughed and shrugged his shoulders under Yoongi’s embrace, unable to hug him back with his hands full of the lunch boxes. Yoongi stepped back and took the packages from Jimin. “Apologies, Jiminie-ssi. I am just happy to see you,” he said a little sheepishly as he went back towards his desk.

Jimin shook his head, smiling at the other man’s back as he followed him. “It’s fine, Hyung. I just didn’t want to drop the lunch boxes,” he said, gesturing towards the food that Yoongi was setting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Well I’m grateful that you didn’t, I’m starving,” he replied good-naturedly. “Give me a few moments to clear off my desk and we can eat. Ok?”

Jimin nodded and meandered around the office as Yoongi began putting stacks of papers into folders. He loved the recessed bookshelves; taking particular notice of how the books were arranged. These shelves were not for show. The contents seemed to be loosely grouped into like categories, but hardbacks and paperbacks were mixed in with leather-bound tomes and slight creases on the edges showed that every single one of these books had been read at least once. Jimin loved to read, and he enjoyed seeing the evidence that Yoongi’s line of work was one that he did out of love, rather than obligation. 

He drifted past the shelves until he came to the windows behind the desk; staring at the city spread out below him and wondering how Yoongi could stand working in a room that hung so far above the ground.

“It’s quite a view, isn’t it?” he heard from right behind him as Yoongi slipped his arms around his waist and set his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin leaned into the back-hug and brought his arms up to rest them on Yoongi’s. 

“I was actually wondering how you managed to work up here when you are afraid of heights,” Jimin answered.

“I am ok when I feel like I am firmly planted,” Yoongi said with amusement. “It’s the prospect of falling that really does a number on me. But I like it up here. It feels removed from everything and it helps me concentrate.”

“It is awe-inspiring to look at,” Jimin acknowledged.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the voice next to his ear.

Jimin rotated his head to see a pair of intense brown eyes staring at him from very close. He turned his body around to look at the other man, but Yoongi kept his arms firmly clasped around Jimin’s torso until they were facing each other from mere inches away. Jimin reached a hand up and traced the jawline he’d been admiring from the door; smiling into his partner’s eyes. “Hello, Hyung,” he said softly; his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

Yoongi’s eyes darkened and his gaze fell to the other man’s mouth. “Hello, Jiminie,” he replied gruffly as he brought his head forward to trace the path of Jimin’s tongue with his own. 

Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut at the light contact and he brought his other hand up to cup Yoongi’s face. He leaned into Yoongi and kissed him gently, stroking his tongue along the man’s mouth to coax it back open. His heart threw itself painfully against his ribcage as Yoongi’s arms tightened around him and he opened his mouth to allow Jimin access. The taste of him was intoxicating, pouring over Jimin’s senses until he trembled from the force of it. 

Yoongi deepened the kiss, stroking Jimin’s tongue with his own as he slid his hands down to the bottom of Jimin’s shirt and up underneath it; running his fingertips against Jimin’s bare skin until he felt like he was going to fall apart from the need that engulfed him. 

_This man is dangerous,_ Jimin thought and he couldn’t help the gasp that burst from his mouth as Yoongi backed them towards his office chair and sat down in it; pulling Jimin onto his lap and pressing the evidence of his arousal against his hip. Sliding one hand around to the front of Jimin’s torso, Yoongi caressed the ripples of the younger man’s abs as he continued to invade his mouth in long slow pulls; mimicking the pulse that was throbbing between Jimin’s legs and filling him with a desire so strong, Jimin was willing to do anything to assuage the hunger that was eating at him.

_Willing to do anything….wait. NO._

Jimin jerked back from the kiss and stood abruptly, panting heavily as he tried to get his bearings. Yoongi sat slumped in his chair breathing hard. Eyes that were half-lidded from desire searched Jimin’s face with a worried gaze. “Are you ok?” he asked through shaky breaths.

Jimin nodded and tried to get his heart rate under control. “Yes. Yes, I’m ok. Sorry, Hyung it was just…”

“No, I’m sorry.” Yoongi interrupted as he got up from his chair, wincing when he had to adjust himself. “I always come on too strong, Jimin-sii, and that is not my intention.” He reached for the younger man’s hand and held it gently. “I have a hard time controlling myself around you, but that is no excuse. We can take this as slowly as you would like, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he said anxiously.

Jimin took a few deep breaths and looked into the concerned eyes of his partner. “It’s ok, Hyung. I just…get nervous. I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time and I think…I think taking it slowly is a good idea. I’m sorry,” he said, embarrassment tinging the tips of his ears read. “I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, no,” Yoongi interrupted again; gathering Jimin into a gentle hug and stroking the back of his head soothingly. “Don’t you apologize to me, sweetheart. We can take this at whatever speed you need to.” He pulled back and looked Jimin in the eye again so he could see that he was serious. “I’m just glad that you are here with me, I don’t need anything else from you right now. Ok?”

“Ok,” Jimin breathed and he leaned forward to brush a soft kiss across Yoongi’s swollen lips. “We should probably eat now, though,” he said with a smile. “I worked all morning to make lunch.”

Yoongi’s face broke out in a grin as he went around to get the lunch boxes from the chair and set them on the desk. “Good,” he said. “I am seriously starving.”

 

* * *

 

The cufflink tumbled through the air in seemingly slow motion and hit the floor with a soft clink before rolling under the ottoman. 

“Of fucking course,” Yoongi muttered with exasperation as he carefully got to his knees to look for the wayward accessory. This was the third time he had fumbled while trying to get ready. I mean, really…how hard was it to put on a tux? It’s not like this was the first time he’d had to dress for a black tie affair, and it would probably not be the last.

 _This is the first time you have gone to an event like this with someone you wanted to impress, though,_ he thought to himself, fishing out the runaway cufflink and standing to try attaching it again. It was true. He had gone with friends or business acquaintances before, but never anyone he was dating. Never with anyone whose perception of him mattered so much. He shook his head at his own ridiculousness.

_That man brings out the teenager in me, I swear._

He chuckled out loud at the thought. Park Jimin had really flipped all of Yoongi’s hard won confidence and self-assurance on its head. One smile from the man and Yoongi was ready to promise any number of heavenly bodies. One flash of fear on that beautiful face and Yoongi was ready to hunt down whoever had put that look there and put them out of their misery. Slowly.

 _That look had been there the other day_ , he mused as he successfully (finally) pinned his shirt cuff and turned to pick out a watch from his drawer. It had been just for a moment. Something had caused Jimin to pull away from him and the other man hadn’t been as quick to mask the real fear that shone in his eyes for the brief second after he had jerked out of Yoongi’s embrace. Yoongi could admit that he’d been a little aggressive, possibly, but not nearly enough to cause that kind of visceral reaction on its own. 

Bending to the shoe rack, he chose a pair to match his suit and set them on the bench in his large walk-in closet while he picked out a bowtie. He was going to need to sit down and have a talk with his shiny new boyfriend soon. Not immediately, because he certainly didn’t want to pressure Jimin, but Yoongi felt like there would need to be some things that were understood between them before they could make the relationship as physical as he wanted it to be. He needed to know what the boundaries were at the very least. 

Somewhere in Jimin was the soul of a submissive. A real submissive. Someone who had maybe spent time in the BDSM community in that role? It was hard to tell. He had all the markers for it; Yoongi had felt the moments that Jimin had seamlessly relinquished control and he knew that once they got to that point for real, the younger man’s surrender would be the sweetest thing Yoongi had ever experienced. 

_If we get there_ , he thought. Jimin wanted to take it slow, and that was ok with Yoongi. He had been telling the truth when he told the other man that he was content for the moment to just spend time with him.

 _Man, when did I become so damn sappy?_ He laughed at himself again and picked up his shoes and the coat of his tux as he headed for the entryway of his house.

The day he had listened to Seokjin and had gone to the investment meeting for Tandem.

That’s when.

 

* * *

 

The limo pulled into the line of polished vehicles that idled in queue at the entrance to the venue and Yoongi adjusted his bowtie for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“The tie is fine, Hyung, but it’s going to be as crooked as you are worried that it is if you don’t stop messing with it,” came the voice of the man sitting next to him. Yoongi looked over to see Jimin’s eyes crinkling with amusement at his discomfort and lowered his hands from the knot at his throat.

“You hush,” he said irritably. “We can’t all just pop out of bed perfectly coiffed and ready to kill at a glance like you.”

Jimin laughed out loud at that. “Thank you for the compliment, I think,” he replied with a grin. “You should know that I am not nearly as fashionable as I seem, though. I have a Fairy Clothes Mother who bestows outfits upon me so I don’t have to think about it.”

Yoongi snickered at the moniker and shook his head. “Well they do a good job,” he said, only half teasing. Whoever picked out Jimin’s outfit for the evening really should be thanked, or maybe even worshiped. His partner was stunning in a jet black button up shirt with a wide high collar that teased his throat with an edging of sheer, black-tipped lace. His jacket was a burnished gunmetal grey paisley pattern that writhed across a background of the same deep black, and had large buttons at the end of the slightly too-long sleeves, partially covering Jimin’s small hands where several muted titanium and onyx rings adorned his fingers. With his hair swept to one side of his forehead and just a hint of eyeliner at the corner of his almond eyes, Jimin looked like the dark version of a fairy-tale prince…the one who showed up in wet dreams. And Yoongi wasn’t even going to start thinking about the tux pants or the way they lovingly molded themselves to Jimin’s ass and thighs. Not if he were going to get through the night without discomfort.

Yoongi had needed a moment to recover his senses when he’d gone to pick up Jimin and the other man had answered the door looking like every fantasy Yoongi had never known he’d had. Jimin could have stood there just breathing and Yoongi would have sold tickets to it as if it were an art exhibit. He was pretty certain that he could provide documented evidence that he was the luckiest man in the world.

He was pulled from his internal slide show by Jimin’s hand covering his on the seat between them. He looked up at the younger man and saw concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you say?” he asked, a little embarrassed that he’d been caught daydreaming by the subject of every dream he’d had lately, waking or sleeping.

“I asked if you were ok, Hyung,” Jimin said. “I know that you don’t like public things, and there are a lot of press waiting at the red carpet. Usually they don’t notice me, but with the show doing so well, they might.”

Yoongi felt his heart warm that Jimin would be worried about him like that and he turned his hand over to lock fingers with him. “I’m fine, Jiminie. I have dealt with events like this before. Besides, you said this was important to you, so here I am.”

Jimin smiled gratefully and nodded, squeezing Yoongi’s hand in his. “Ok then. Put your game face on, because we’re next.”

Yoongi took a deep breath as the car pulled up in front of the venue. Jimin opened the door and stepped out as the flashes from the press photographers spilled into the limo. Yoongi stepped out right behind him, nodding his assurance as he buttoned the coat of his tux, and the two men walked down the red carpet towards the doors of the building. 

The crowd started yelling immediately, throwing a few questions his way, but bombarding Jimin about his show, his recent success, and his love life. Yoongi noticed that Jimin walked alongside him, but was farther away than he normally would be. He was clearly giving Yoongi breathing room as they faced the wall of cameras and blinding lights; they hadn’t spoken about whether or not they would make their relationship known publicly yet, and he could see that Jimin was trying to make sure he had the space he needed.

 _To hell with that_ , Yoongi thought as he closed the distance between them. Jimin started a little when he felt Yoongi’s hand at the small of his back, but then he smiled brightly for the cameras and walked with one arm lightly brushing up against Yoongi’s body. The crowd started screaming at Yoongi’s possessive gesture, and the neutral comments changed to questions about their relationship as the two men navigated the rest of the press gauntlet. 

_Well I know what will be all over the gossip columns tomorrow. Note to self: stay away from the internet for a few days_ , Yoongi thought wryly. 

At long last, the doors of the venue closed behind them and the roar of people dropped to a more manageable decibel level. Gentle strains of live chamber music drifted through the doors in front of them as they were escorted to the ballroom. The gathering was about what Yoongi had expected; small tables that stood tall were located intermittently throughout the room to provide a place to set champagne glasses or plates from the buffet that spread along the right wall. Smartly dressed wait staff wove through the attendees, unobtrusively serving drinks and clearing discarded dishes. A string quintet played Mozart from a slightly raised dais wedged into the back left corner next to the stage while celebrities and powerful business moguls mingled in loose groups; sleekly glittering advertisements for obscenely wealthy couture. 

Yoongi fought not to cringe at the suffocating level of elitist privilege in the room as he and Jimin stood at the ballroom entrance. He stifled a sigh of relief when he saw Namjoon and Seokjin standing to the side having an animated conversation with Hoseok and another man that Yoongi didn’t recognize. Namjoon spotted them immediately and his face dimpled happily as he waved them over.

“CEO Min,” Namjoon said, bowing and holding out his hand as the two men approached. “So glad you guys could come. I had it on good authority, mainly yours, that you didn’t typically attend this kind of event.”

Yoongi gave his friend a genuine smile and he returned the bow as they shook hands. “Yes, well, I was coerced into showing up by a very convincing person,” he said good-naturedly as he glanced over at Jimin who rolled his eyes. 

“I seem to remember telling you that you didn’t have to come, Hyung,” Jimin defended with a grin.

“But how could I refuse when you asked so nicely?” Yoongi teased as he shook hands with Seokjin who had moved forward to greet the couple.

“Well I’m glad you didn’t refuse,” Seokjin said, pulling him into the circle of their group. “You need to get out more and you clean up nicely. 

Yoongi laughed as Jimin also greeted the two men. “If you say so, CEO Kim.”

“I do say so,” he replied haughtily. “I believe you know CEO Jung,” Seokjin supplied as Yoongi and Hoseok bowed and shook hands, “and this is Kim Taehyung, founder and CEO of Victory Couture,” Seokjin introduced as he gestured to the other man in the group.

They bowed and shook hands and Yoongi was momentarily nonplussed at the beauty of the man in front of him. There was no one more attractive in Yoongi’s eyes than Jimin, but even he had to admit that Taehyung was stunning. 

The owner of Victory Couture greeted him in a polite, if somewhat aloof, manner, but dropped all pretenses when Jimin stepped forward; wrapping an arm around the smaller man’s neck and squeezing slightly. 

“Jiminie-hyungggggggggg,” he said as he squished Jimin. “I’m so happy you’re here. No one looks as good in my clothes as you. I knew I gave you the perfect outfit, you are so handsome,” he said merrily as Jimin laughed and slapped at the taller man’s arm to make him let go.

 _Jiminie-hyung?_ Yoongi thought, a small spear of jealousy poking at him as he saw the affectionate way that Jimin interacted with the other man.

“Don’t worry about that,” Namjoon said softly from beside him. “Taehyung and Jimin have been best friends since high-school and were roommates for a long time after that,” he explained. “There were three of them in their little group that kind of grew up together, and it’s probably easiest just to accept that they are going to be ridiculous anytime they are near each other.”

Yoongi had to fight the blush of embarrassment that threatened to heat his face. Of course Jimin had friends outside of those he knew; he was such a personable man. The tightening in his chest eased and he hated how silly he felt for being jealous of his boyfriend's friendships.

Jimin finally extracted himself from Taehyung’s grasp and he reached for Yoongi’s hand to pull him forward. “I know you just met each other,” he began shyly, “but I would like to personally introduce you. Taehyungie, this is Min Yoongi, my partner. Hyung, this is Kim Taehyung, the most annoying person in my life, and also my best friend.”

Taehyung ignored the ‘annoying’ comment and regarded Yoongi, fully noticing him this time as the two men bowed to each other again. Yoongi could feel the other man’s scrutiny and fought not to squirm under the intense gaze of Jimin’s friend.

“So,” Taehyung said slowly, “You’re ‘the person,’ huh?”

“I am,” Yoongi said without hesitation, meeting Taehyung’s searching eyes without flinching.

Taehyung continued to consider Yoongi for a moment before seeming to come to some conclusion and nodding slowly. “Ok, then,” he said as his large eyes crinkled into a smile that lit up his whole face. “It is very nice to meet you properly, CEO Min. Jimin-hyung has been going on about you for weeks so it’s good to finally put a face to the never-ending commentary.”

Jimin’s cheeks flushed pink and he smiled at Yoongi as he kicked Taehyung in the shin. “Please don’t listen to him. He likes to make up these wild stories and –OW!” he squeaked as Taehyung retaliated by pinching the back of his arm.

Yoongi chuckled while the two squabbled quietly and he caught Namjoon’s eye as the other man quirked an eyebrow and shrugged as if to say “See? I told you.” Yoongi nodded to Namjoon and turned to talk to Seokjin and Hoseok as another couple arrived to the ballroom; the energy of the room changing as the mingling crowd noticed their entrance. 

Jeon Jungkook walked into the ballroom in confident strides, resplendent in a fitted black suit with wide, vertical, dark crimson stripes that matched the color of the silk button-up underneath. On his arm was a beautiful woman in a black knee-length dress; she looked somewhat familiar to Yoongi…an actress maybe? The singer’s smile was wide as he greeted the people who came forward to meet him and Yoongi had to admit that as charismatic as the man seemed on television, he was ten times that magnetic in person. He really did enjoy Jungkook’s music, and Yoongi pondered whether or not to introduce himself once the initial rush of admirers had calmed down. The decision was taken out of his hands, though, as Jungkook searched the room until his eyes landed on their group and, extracting himself politely from those around him, he moved towards them with his companion.

“Good! All the important people are here now, everyone else can go home,” Jungkook said amiably as he reached the group and Yoongi felt a small spark of surprise as the man pulled away from his date and threw his arms around Jimin and Taehyung’s shoulders. 

Hoseok laughed as Jungkook greeted everyone and reached forward to lightly punch the singer’s arm. “Nice entrance there, Jungkook-ah. Can’t ever just walk into a place, can you? Always have to be extra about it.” 

Jungkook snorted indelicately as he eyeballed Hoseok’s outfit; the co-owner of Tandem was dressed in traditional black tuxedo pants and white shirt with a gradient black tie knotted neatly at his throat, but his black suit jacket was entirely covered in small, hand-sewn sequins that twinkled and shone subtly with every movement. “You’re one to talk, Hyung; can’t even wear a proper tux without it having some kind flash to it,” he teased.

Taehyung pulled Jungkook’s arm off his shoulder and stepped back with a look of mock offense on his face. “I will thank you to keep your opinions to yourself, sir. That jacket took hours upon hours to make and if I never see another sequin again in my life it will be too soon,” he said as he crossed his arms.

“Now Tae,” Jimin chimed in helpfully, “we all know that Kookie has to be the prettiest thing in the room. Let him be a diva,” he quipped.

Everyone laughed as Jungkook had the grace to look sheepish and Yoongi watched the interaction with fascination. This must be the third that Namjoon was talking about; the other one that Jimin had grown up with. He shook his head ruefully. He’d heard Jimin refer to his friends Kookie and Tae before, but he had never imagined that his partner was referring to an internationally renowned fashion designer and the hottest singer on the music scene right now. 

_Leave it to Jimin to be childhood friends with some of the most influential people in the room_ , he thought to himself, _and not think it abnormal enough to mention ahead of time._

He brought his attention back to the conversation in time to realize that Jungkook had introduced his companion and he’d totally missed her name. He wasn’t given time to ask for it again, though, as Jimin had grabbed his hand again and was introducing him to Jungkook as his partner.

The two men smiled as they bowed and shook hands and Yoongi was a little embarrassed when Jimin mentioned that he was a fan of Jungkook’s music. The singer was delighted, however, and Yoongi was immediately put back at ease as he and the charming younger man spoke. 

“Excuse me,” came the soft interruption from Jungkook’s companion. “Did you say he was your _partner_? As in business partner or…something else?” she asked and her lip curled a little when Jimin switched his hold on Yoongi’s hand, threading their fingers together as levelled his gaze on the woman.

“He is my boyfriend, if that is what you are asking,” Jimin said cooly, raising an eyebrow as if daring her to continue with her line of questioning. “Although I am confident that it is none of your business.”

Jungkook’s expression darkened and before anyone else could say anything, he put his hand firmly on the woman’s elbow. “Please pardon us. I’ll be back in a minute,” he said in tones that were dripping with ice as he steered the woman away from the group.

The set of Namjoon’s jaw was rigid and Seokjin soothed a hand down his husband’s arm as they watched the pair walk away.

Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s hand and he turned worried eyes to him. “I’m sorry, Hyung, I didn’t-“

Yoongi shook his head, cutting him off. “It’s ok, Jiminie-ssi. I know how people are,” he said reassuringly, returning the pressure on Jimin’s hand.

Taehyung’s sober face broke into a smile at Yoongi’s use of Jimin’s pet name and the rest of the group shrugged off the foul mood that had settled over them.

 

* * *

 

The evening had passed smoothly so far, after the initial hitch that came from the rudeness of Jungkook’s date. Jimin hadn’t seen her since his friend led her away, though, and when Kookie came back, he did so by himself. Eventually, their group had broken up to mingle with the rest of the guests as Jungkook had taken to the stage to do a few of his songs for the attendees, and ask for donations for ConnectAll. 

Yoongi had stayed by Jimin’s side all night, calmly introducing him to acquaintances that he ran into as his partner; an act which had gotten varied responses from those they spoke to, but the success of Jimin’s recent show had broken the ice with several of them as they gushed over the performances.

Jimin and Yoongi were standing around one of the tall glass tables, eating some of the available finger foods and chatting about the reception of Jungkook’s latest album when Yoongi heard a familiar voice behind them.

“CEO Min?”

Yoongi and Jimin turned to see Shin Suran standing there in a brilliant red strapless dress that hugged her torso and flared from her waist to the floor. Jimin smiled warmly and held out his hand as he bowed. “CEO Shin,” he said pleasantly. “Nice to see you again.”

Suran took Jimin’s hand and returned a shadow of a bow, her eyes searching Yoongi’s face with confusion before focusing on Jimin. “Yes of course. CEO Park, right? It is nice to see you as well, how is Tandem doing?” she asked, her voice remote and uninterested.

Jimin smiled again, the expression not quite reaching his eyes at her dismissive tone. “It’s doing well, although I haven’t been as active there lately. CEO Jung has been doing a majority of the business running in the last few months.”

Bristling at Suran’s rudeness, Yoongi placed a possessive hand at the small of Jimin’s back and looked at his friend with irritation. “Jimin-ssi has been very busy with his show lately. It’s quite a hit, actually. If you haven’t seen Wings, I definitely recommend it. They may already be sold out, but the second run of performances is set to begin in a few weeks, right?” he asked Jimin.

Jimin gave him a look of gratitude as he nodded and turned back to Suran. “It is. If you are interested, CEO Shin, I can arrange to have tickets provided for you. Just let me know which show you would like to attend and I can have them reserved.”

Suran regarded both men for a moment before noncommittally agreeing to contact Jimin, if she remembered, and she brought her eyes back to Yoongi’s for a long moment before inclining her head regally and excusing herself.

“Well THAT was awkward,” Seokjin said as he and Namjoon came around the table. “I think that calls for a drink.” Noticing one of the wait staff with tray of full champagne flutes heading their way, he flagged the man down. Grabbing two glasses, he handed them to Jimin and Yoongi before taking a glass each for himself and his husband. “I know she’s your friend, CEO Min,” he said as he took a sip of his champagne, “but pretentious people make my ass itch.”

Jimin was mid-swallow from his own glass of the bubbly liquid and almost choked when Seokjin said that. Yoongi barked out a huff of laughter as the tension once again slid out of the group and Jimin thought about how glad he was to have his family here with him as he took another long pull of his drink.

His breath hitched in is throat for a moment and he felt like maybe he needed to cough again when his lungs constricted painfully and he was suddenly gasping unsuccessfully for air. In a panic he grabbed for Yoongi, dropping his champagne glass as he clawed at his throat, wheezing desperately while his windpipe slammed shut and his stomach rolled greasily. Spots danced around the edges of his vision and he vaguely heard Seokjin crying out as Namjoon, his face mottled in agony, toppled over into the table, tipping the structure and its contents to the floor and smashing the glass tabletop.

The roaring in Jimin’s ears was deafening as he felt his knees buckle and he dropped to the floor before Yoongi could catch him, a sharp pain piercing his lower back as he landed with a thud, cracking his head against the metal rim of the overturned table. Yoongi’s frantic voice calling his name filtered through his muffled hearing as he lost consciousness and everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note** Happy New Year, my lovelies! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. I decided to upload the next chapter a little earlier than I was originally going to because I feel a bit bad leaving y'all on a cliffhanger. Thanks again for reading!

They never tell you in the stories about how fast it happens; how quickly things can go from normal to utterly dire. Movies and books always talk about how everything slows down when you’re terrified, but what they don’t mention is that you slow down with it. You can see it happening, but you can’t stop it, can’t catch it, can’t reverse it - you can only watch; watch and try to out-run it and fail. Yoongi felt like his stomach acid was wrapping around his heart as he watched Jimin slam into the ground amidst the broken glass of the overturned table. His muscles burned with the effort to move faster than physics would allow, grasping uselessly to catch Jimin as he slipped through his fingers and went sprawling onto the floor.

Namjoon lay writhing a few feet away, his face swelling as he gasped for air and Seokjin barked orders to someone standing close by. The normal flow of time crashed back into Yoongi as he fell to his knees beside his partner, popping buttons off the top of the younger man’s shirt as he yanked it open and away from his throat. Jimin’s face was bloated and blotchy and his lips were an alarming shade of blue.

 _He’s not breathing._ Yoongi thought as he put his ear to Jimin’s mouth, terror rolling through him. _Sweet fates he isn’t breathing._

He put the heel of one hand on the other man’s chest, set the other hand on top, and locked his fingers together as he pressed down; relaxing his arms briefly before pushing down again.

 _Come on, Baby. Please. Please breathe._ Yoongi continued compressions as his mind looped through the mantra over and over, unable to comprehend how this could be happening.

Suddenly, there was another pair of hands on Jimin’s body and Yoongi almost shoved them away until he realized it was Taehyung that was crouched on the other side of Jimin’s still form, leaning over to listen at his mouth. Without a word, he reached into the inner pocket of Jimin’s suit jacket and pulled out an oddly shaped tube. Twisting the cap of the tube off with his teeth, Taehyung dumped a smaller tube into his hand, pulled back a tab, and jammed it against Jimin’s upper thigh as he pressed a button on the top of it with a meaty click. Reaching into his own suit pocket, Taehyung tossed another tube to Seokjin who repeated the same action on Namjoon. 

Unsure what to do, Yoongi kept rhythmically pressing on Jimin’s chest and he almost fainted with relief when Jimin’s eyelids fluttered and his chest rose with a violent jerking motion as he began gasping shallowly, his body shaking all over as the epinephrine that he’d been injected with flooded through his system. Yoongi stopped CPR and put a hand to the ground to steady himself, jerking it back up when he felt it hit wetness. His stomach dropped sickeningly as he saw the blood coating his hand and his eyes fell to the pool of viscous fluid spreading out from under Jimin. 

His gaze met Taehyung’s wide-eyed expression for a moment of shared dread as the two men gently rolled Jimin to his side. His back was soaked with blood and Yoongi had to swallow past the nausea that slid through him as he looked at the large piece of glass that had speared into the left side of Jimin’s lower back just above his belt. The jagged bit of tabletop was as wide as his arm, only the gods knew how long, and was lodged firmly in Jimin’s torso. Yoongi’s hands started to tremble when he realized that every compression of Jimin’s chest had probably shoved the glass further into his body. He took his suit coat off and pressed it to the wound, leaving a space for the section of shard that still stuck out.

He had no idea how long he knelt there holding his jacket to Jimin’s back with blood soaking through his pant legs; the chaos around him a distant cacophony compared to the thundering static of fear in his head. Eventually, he felt strong hands on his upper arms and he turned his head to see Jungkook’s grim face as the other man began pulling him up off the floor. Yoongi started struggling, panic riding him as he was lifted away from Jimin and it took a few moments for him to realize that Jungkook was speaking to him.

“CEO Min, you have to give them room to work,” he was saying gently, his arms straining against Yoongi’s attempts to pull from his grasp. 

Yoongi stilled when he noticed that the paramedics had arrived and were working quickly to asses Jimin and Namjoon. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of one hand and fought again against the bile at the back of his throat as he looked at how much blood was on the floor after the medics got Jimin on a stretcher. Without taking his hands from Yoongi’s arms, Jungkook walked him away from the scene quickly, following the medics who had gotten Jimin on a gurney and were moving towards the side of the ballroom with alacrity.

Yoongi didn’t register walking outside, but he was suddenly being guided to a black SUV that had pulled around to the side door that the medics had used. 

“No!” Yoongi said frantically as he realized that he was not going to the ambulance. “No, I have to be with him, no I…”

“We are going to be right behind them, CEO Min,” Taehyung’s soft baritone filtered in through the haze of Yoongi’s shock as Jungkook helped him into the vehicle. “The medics need room to work so Kookie is going to drive us to the hospital.”

Yoongi nodded absently and scrambled into the SUV, buckling his belt as realization hit him. “Namjoon. Oh gods, Namjoon,” he turned to Taehyung who had climbed in beside him. 

“Namjoon-hyung is in the other ambulance and Hoseok-hyung is taking Jin-hyung in his car; they’ll be there too,” the other man assured him as Jungkook followed the ambulances out onto the road.

Yoongi slumped against the seat and went to rub his hand down his face, dropping it to the armrest with a grimace as the intermittent streetlights bathed the interior of the SUV with muted light; making the drying blood on his hand look like black ichor against his pale skin.

“What in the actual fuck just fucking happened in there,” he demanded, anger slowly replacing the panic in his belly.

“Anaphylaxis,” came Jungkook’s curt reply, his voice slightly elevated to be heard over the wail of sirens as he wove in and out of traffic to keep pace with the ambulances.

“For it to be both Namjoon and Jimin they had to have ingested something with shellfish,” Taehyung added. “All the food was marked for allergens so something they ate must have gotten cross contaminated.” 

Shellfish.

Jimin had mentioned in passing that he was allergic to shellfish when they had gone on their date.

Hysteria raked sharp nails at the edges of Yoongi’s mind as he stared at the emergency vehicles ahead of them. Jimin was in one of those ambulances - gasping for air and possibly bleeding out. He could be dying and Yoongi wasn’t in there with him.

“That was quick thinking on your part,” he said to Taehyung, trying to keep talking so he wouldn’t start screaming.

Taehyung nodded tiredly and smiled without humor, worry etching lines into his smooth face. “This isn’t my first show as far as his allergy goes; we’ve been friends for a long time. If I make something specifically for him or Namjoon, I always add a pocket for the epi pen. I’m glad I brought one with me tonight because I don’t think Namjoon had his on him,” he said on a shaky sigh.

Yoongi patted the other man on the shoulder. “I’m glad you were there. I didn’t…I didn’t know what to do.”

Taehyung nodded as he looked down at his hands and the vehicle fell into silence between the men.

 

* * *

 

Five hours. 

It had been five hours since they had arrived at the hospital.

Five hours since Namjoon had been wheeled to the emergency room and had tubes shoved up his nose.

Five hours since Jimin had been rushed to surgery.

Namjoon was resting in his room, now; the hospital wanted to keep him overnight. All of the shards of glass had been removed, the cuts had been dressed, his broken arm had been set, and he’d been given further medication to counteract the epinephrine.

Seokjin was with him.

Jimin was still in surgery.

Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jungkook sat on benches outside the doors that led to the operating rooms and Yoongi leaned against the wall further down the hall. 

None of them spoke. 

None of them could.

There had been no activity in those five hours, other than the one time somewhere near the two-hour mark when a nurse rushed out of the doors and then back through them minutes later with an arm full of blood bags.

No word from the doctors.

No word from the surgeon.

Nothing.

Taehyung had paced for a while at first but had since slumped onto a bench to sit while Jungkook rubbed small circles on his back. 

Hoseok sat on a bench opposite them, his eyes moving restlessly between the door and the men waiting with him.

The minutes crawled by, each one slowly dragging through Yoongi like small needles on the perimeter of every thought. 

Six hours went by.

Then seven.

The second hand of the clock on the wall across from him seemed to get louder, ticking mockingly in time to the twitching hitch in Yoongi’s shoulder; reminding him of the last time he had spent hours in the hospital. He shifted his weight, wincing at the pain in his knees as his stomach turned slowly over and beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Without a word to the others, he turned and walked stiffly down the hall.

He was almost running when he hit the doors that led outside, sucking the cold air of early morning down in great gulps as he stumbled to a bench nestled in an alcove along the outer wall. With trembling hands he pulled a crumpled pack of smokes out of his pants pockets, fumbling at the packaging until he pulled a slightly bent cigarette out, putting it between his lips, and patting himself down for his lighter.  
Which he seemed to have forgotten.

Again.

“Shit,” he said remembering that it was in the pocket of his suit coat. The same coat that he had taken off to try to staunch the flow of blood from Jimin’s back.

“Shit,” he said again, resting his elbows on his thighs and hanging his head in defeat.

It was a testament to how worn out he was when he didn’t jerk away from the lighter that appeared under his face as the hand that held it struck it for flame. Yoongi merely leaned into the small fire to catch it on the end of his cigarette before taking a drag and leaning back to look at the saint who had saved his ragged nerves.

Hoseok stood in the weak light of dawn with the lighter in his hand, his face pulled tight with exhaustion as he released the button and sat down next to Yoongi. Neither man spoke for a long moment until Hoseok leaned forward to rest his own elbows on his knees.

“He’s going to be ok, you know,” he said quietly as he looked out over the parking lot, all traces of the boisterous man he usually was erased by the weight of the night’s events.

Yoongi regarded him as he took a pull of his cigarette. “How can you possibly know that?” he replied wearily.

Hoseok shrugged and turned his head to face him. “Because he has to,” he said simply, holding Yoongi’s ravaged gaze with his own before turning back to watch the morning activity of hospital employees arriving and leaving at shift change.

“Someday I will tell you how I met Jimin. Or maybe Jimin will. It should probably be him anyway,” he said as he rubbed his hands over his face. “But just take it on good authority that Jimin is made of tougher stuff than any of us. He’ll pull through.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Yoongi replied at last, exhaling a stream of smoke on a sigh. “But my brain keeps replaying the image of him lying in all that blood, unable to breathe. And all I can think is that he could have died right there. He could have died right there in my arms and I would not have known how to save him. He could still die and I wouldn’t be able to do…anything.” Yoongi’s voice broke and his dry eyes burned as he pulled another cigarette out of his pack, lighting it with the butt of the first one.

Hoseok stared at Yoongi, blinking slowly.

“What?” Yoongi finally asked uncomfortably. “Why are you staring?”

“Holy shit, you’re in love with him,” Hoseok said in awe. 

Yoongi scoffed and took another drag of the new cigarette, looking up at the lightening sky as he stretched his neck. “Don’t be ridiculous, we’ve only really known each other for a few weeks.”

“Which means dick-all when it’s the right person,” Hoseok countered, turning to face Yoongi fully. “And don’t give me some bullshit about how anyone would have reacted that way. Sure, anyone would be upset, but not just anyone would try to fight to stay with him, or continue to stay for hours without rest. You love him,” he said firmly, “and there is nothing wrong with that. It just means I have to worry less, is all.”

He reached over and patted Yoongi’s knee, yanking his hand away when the other man hissed in pain at the contact. “What the hell…” Hoseok’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Yoongi. “Let me see,” he told the older man in a tone that brokered no argument.

Too drained to put up any kind of fight, Yoongi slowly pulled one pant leg up to just above his knee and Hoseok couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath when he saw the state of his leg. Starting just above his ankles, the skin of Yoongi’s leg was a riot of shallow cuts and lacerations, but his knee…his knee was a horror show. Kneeling and shifting with his full weight in the glass on the floor around Jimin had ground pieces of the broken tabletop deep into the flesh covering the joint, tearing the skin so badly in places that small strips hung in mangled flaps around the wounds and stuck to the fabric of the pants. What skin there was that wasn’t pulverized was puffed up and screaming red. There were no discernable pieces of glass sticking out, though.

“Fucking hell, Min-ssi,” Hoseok breathed. “Did you pull the glass out yourself? Is that what took you so long when you went to the bathroom earlier?”

Yoongi nodded wordlessly, his skin paler than it had been a moment ago.

“And you have been standing there. For the better part of 10 hours. Just fucking bleeding down your leg without saying anything,” Hoseok bit out between clenched teeth. “Have you lost your goddamned mind? Is the other leg just as bad?”

Yoongi nodded again and wiped fresh sweat from his forehead

“I…I couldn’t leave,” Yoongi offered in a muted voice that dripped with desperation. “I couldn’t leave in case they came out to tell us something. These are the first cigarettes I’ve had since before I picked him up for the event. We’ve been out here too long as it is, we should go back.” Yoongi went to stand but sitting had tightened the damaged skin of his legs and he sat back down with a grunt of pain. 

“Fuck that, you need to get looked at.”

“I want to get back there, they may have news, I have to know…”

“I don’t give a damn what you want,” Hoseok interrupted angrily. “Your fucking legs look like hamburger meat. We can go back, but you’re going to sit there and let them look at this mess and fucking take care of it. I swear to fucking god you two were made for each other, all self-sacrificing and full of martyrdom and shit. Fuck.”

Hoseok’s words were harsh, but his touch was gentle as he helped Yoongi stand before pulling the other man’s arm over his shoulder and wrapping his own around Yoongi’s waist; half carrying him as they walked inside.

 

* * *

 

Jimin was floating; drifting in an endless, inky-black domain that cradled his consciousness with a feather-light embrace. 

His mind was quiet.

There was no breath, no texture, no vision, no thought of where or who he was - just an infinite expanse that surrounded him and enveloped his spirit.

He was vaguely aware of occasional disturbances in what was otherwise total sensory deprivation; small splashes of fragmented moments that rippled through the pool of his apathy like sharp drops of water on an otherwise still pond. 

“….Baby please breathe…………I can’t………….don’t you……………Baby…oh gods, please……..”

_That voice sounds very scared. I wonder what’s happening..._

“…..CEO Min you……….let them work……”

“No I need……..he isn’t…..please…..just help if……..”

The ripples spread out, carrying the fragments away from him into the dark and leaving the hush to settle back around him.

Jimin continued to drift in the comforting stillness, letting the vastness soak into his soul. 

Another fragment dropped, much larger and terribly close, sending huge ripples crashing through the detachment surrounding him and slicing into the calm of his mind.

“…BP is 190 over…..clear!....intubation tube isn’t……just hold…anesthesia…….dangerous if…..another incision will…….too much blood loss…..tearing of the…..organ damage might…….it’s blocking the…….Doctor, he’s…..is his family here…………………….have to call it. Time of Death…”

Awareness crept into Jimin as the warmth supporting him turned quickly to frost; writhing around him in icy bands that threatened to pull him under. The stillness that had held him aloft now churned in choppy waves of discarded memories, and he felt stretched thin as pieces of himself were absorbed by the void that was slowly enveloping him.

_No!_

He struggled against the coils of nothingness that drug him slowly down, fighting to keep from being swallowed; the comforting dark now pulsating with sinister intent as it clung to him.

Pulling the swirling mass of memories to him, he pressed them into his transparent form before they were lost - the few happy moments from his childhood; his acceptance to the dance academy; his move to Seoul, reconnecting with old friends; meeting Hoseok; nights spent sitting and laughing at the Kim’s kitchen counter…

It wasn’t working, he could still feel himself fading.

Jimin cast around frantically as he tried to wrestle free from the grip that was devouring him, needing something more tangible than the remnants that were dissolving along with his willpower. He grasped desperately at a large fragment – this one was brighter than the rest, newer. 

The feel of weightlessness as he flew through the air on stage.

The curl of music through his limbs as he danced.

Yoongi’s face when he watched him perform.

Yoongi’s gummy smile when he laughed with his whole body.

Yoongi’s eyes, dark with desire as he kissed him.

Yoongi’s panicked expression as Jimin fell to the floor.

Yoongi.

_YOONGI._

Jimin wrenched himself free and latched onto the image of his partner, letting every emotion that it brought roll through him; attraction, humor, restlessness, comfort, uncertainty, fear, longing…love.

_Love?_

_Do I…love him?_

Not bothering to work out what it meant, he wrapped that feeling around himself like a life-vest as the boiling emotions calmed and all thought drained away, diluted by exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

“Any word?” 

“Not yet. They said he is stable as long as he is on those machines.”

_Stable?_

“They also said we have to leave while they examine him and change his bedclothes.”

“No.”

“Min-ssi, it’s just for a moment. How long has it been since you left this room for anything other than a cigarette?”

_Cigarette? Yoongi…._

“A little while…”

“Well, you need some food. And also a shower. And a few minutes walking around in the fresh air. But really a shower.”

“Don’t patronize me, Seokjin.”

“Well then don’t stink up the place, Yoongi.”

_Jin-hyung? What is going on?_

“Fine. I’ll go shower and get a few changes of clothes but you have to promise to wait here until I get back.”

“I swear to you, I will only leave as far as the hall and will be right back here once I am allowed. Now go.”

_No wait! Don’t go, Yoongi, I am ok! Tell him, Jin-hyung. Tell him. Please tell him that….I….am fine….._

 

* * *

 

“He seems to be resting easier now at least.”

_Hobi-hyung? No….Kookie._

“Yes and thank fates for that. I feel like I haven’t slept in ages.”

_TaeTae. What are you guys doing here? Where are we?_

“You should try sleeping here. This couch thing is the comfiest.”

_Yoongi……._

“Pfft. After all the hoops I had to jump through to get them to let you stay here? No thanks. You can enjoy the fruits of my labor all by yourself. You’re welcome.”

_Tae, what did you have to do? Why isn’t anyone answering me?_

“Yes, well…thank you for that, Kim-ssi. I don’t know what I would have done if-“

“It was my pleasure. And call me Tae. Or at least Taehyung. I figure if you are going to be all wrapped up in my bestie, you should address me less formally.”

_You sound so tired…wait, why can’t I open my eyes?_

“And you can drop the formalities at least a little as well. You too, Jeon-ssi. I feel like we can all be a bit less worried about that sort of thing after spending so much time crammed into a hospital room together.”

_Hospital room? What is going on?! Guys! GUYS._

“Call me Kookie or Jungkook, Min-hyung. And this isn’t nearly as crowded as a regular room would be. I like that you made them move him to an executive suite.”

“Yes, well, Seokjin and I being on the board of directors for the company that has made the biggest contributions to this hospital occasionally has its perks.”

“I’m glad. Makes it seem less, I don’t know…hospitaly. Jimin hates hospitals.”

_I do. I do hate them. Why am I here then? Why can’t you guys hear me?_

“Is it because of something that happened to him before? Is that where the scarring damage to his leg came from?”

_Oh no…_

“I was wondering if you saw that. Thank you for not making a big deal out of it. And yeah. He was in the hospital for…things related to that injury. Not my story to tell, though.”

_Yoongi-hyung saw my leg. Oh gods…_

“I am just wondering how I didn’t notice before.”

“Jimin has his tights specially made. The left leg of all of his dance bottoms is layered to hide it.”

_HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM ABOUT THIS? Oh gods he is never going to want me now. Hyung. HYUNG. WHY AM I IN THE HOSPITAL?_

“These machines are so loud. It can’t be relaxing for him in here…”

“He can’t hear it, Min-hyung. He’s out, for the time being.”

_Yes I can! I can hear all of it! I can hear all of YOU. PLEASE LOOK AT ME. PLEASE NOTICE._

“I don’t know about that. What if he can hear us, Jungkook-ssi?”

“He can’t even breathe on his own right now.”

_WHAT?! Oh fates don’t panic don’t panic don’t panicdon’tpanicdon’tpanicdontpanicdontpanicdont-_

“What are those alarms?!”

“Shit, it’s his blood pressure. Go get the nurse. NOW.”

_Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsletmeoutletmeout_

“Baby. Sweetheart. Jiminie. I need you to calm your mind, wherever it is. I need you to be calm, love. Please be calm.”

 _letmeoutletmeout_ “Please, sweetheart…” _letmeoutletmeout_ “You have to stay with me, Jimine. I need you to stay with me.” _letmeoutletmeoutletmeoutletmeoutletmeoutletmeout …. ___

* * *

 

“Reading poetry to him, huh?”

“Namjoon-ssi. Good to see you. Seokjin-hyung mentioned that you’d probably stop by.”

_Poetry….I love poetry. Especially…._

“I cut my lecture short today. I can’t seem to focus on anything much lately and this blasted sling is an inconvenience.”

_Sling? Is Joonie-hyung hurt?_

“I definitely understand that. I feel like I only manage to get work done when I am too tired to worry  
about anything else. At least my work can be mobile. And you have to wear the sling so your clumsy ass doesn’t hurt yourself further.”

“Humph. Speaking of mobility, I like the workstation you have set up here and everything, but don’t you need a break from this place?”

_What place? Where **are** we?_

“No, I’m fine. They are going to take him off the breathing machine in the morning to see how he does. They think he might be able to breathe on his own if we let him try. I won’t be able to relax until then, so I might as well stay here.”

“I understand. We just worry, is all.”

“I know, but it’s not necessary. I am fine right here.”

“How did you know that is his favorite poetry collection?”

“Hoseok brought it by last week. Said Jimin might be tired of the other stuff I was reading to him. Haha.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with that book. I brought some food and some extra pillows, by the way.”

“Why, are we building a fort with them?”

“I mean, we can if you want to. But mostly they are for me. I don’t have class until Monday, so I am going to keep you two company tonight.

“Ok.”

“He’s going to pull through this. You have to believe that.”

“Thanks, man. I am trying to be optimistic about all of this; I won’t give up on him. For now, we just have to wait and see how tomorrow goes.”

_…….Yoongi……_

 

* * *

 

Jimin felt like his body was made of lead. His limbs were weighted and barely responsive, and his eyes burned under heavy lids. After trying for what seemed like hours, he was able to pry his eyes open somewhat and take in his surroundings.

His vision was blurry at first, slowly focusing in the dim light of the room. He was prone, semi-elevated by the bed under him, and surrounded by a humidifier, monitors, and multiple machines whose data gathering functions beeped on echoing waves in the quiet space. Jimin’s tongue felt like sand, his breath swirling in the mask over his nose and mouth as he calmed the rising distress at once again being in a medical facility by trying to figure out why he was there. 

This hospital room was unlike any other that he’d been in. Padded wooden furniture placed stylishly throughout the suite was offset only by large windows that were framed by curtains held open by matching sashes to let in the moonlight. In the corner of the space, surrounded by bedside tables that were covered in papers and empty coffee cups, sat Yoongi; dozing with his chin resting in his hand and propped on a table by his elbow, the light of the laptop screen in front of him etching his face into harsh lines. 

Jimin let his sight rest on the older man for a moment, drinking in the view as a swell of relief rolled over him so hard it made his breathing stutter. 

He wasn’t alone. 

Yoongi was here. 

Yoongi was right here with him. 

As if feeling his gaze, Yoongi’s eyes snapped open and collided with Jimin’s; widening in shock when he realized that he was awake. Papers slid to the floor in a tumble as Yoongi shoved the side table out of his way and stumbled over to the bed Grasping one of Jimin’s small hands in both of his larger ones Yoongi frantically searched his partner’s face.

“Jimin-ssi, can you hear me? Are you really awake?” The tremor in his low voice pinched at Jimin’s heart.

He looked so scared.

He looked so tired.

He looked…hopeful.

Jimin opened his mouth to answer him, but all he could do was rasp out a small whisper of sound. His throat felt like it was on fire. He struggled for only a couple of seconds before Yoongi silenced him.

“Shhhhh no, no. You don’t have to talk.” He kept one hand in Jimin’s but pulled the other away to smooth the hair back from the younger man’s forehead. “You don’t have to talk at all. Just squeeze my hand to let me know that you can hear and understand me.”

Jimin pressed his fingers weakly around his partner’s hand and watched as the haggard creases in Yoongi’s face relaxed. Yoongi leaned over and put his forehead to Jimin’s, stroking his hair in a sweet caress. 

“You don’t know how terrified I was,” he told him in a barely audible whisper. “I have never been that afraid in my entire life. You had me so scared, Jiminie.” Yoongi’s voice broke a little on his name as jumbled recollections from the benefit swam to the surface of Jimin’s mind.

 _I saw you, Hyung. I heard you fighting for me. I’m so sorry I scared you. I’m so sorry I made you sad. Please forgive me,_ Jimin thought, willing Yoongi to understand but unable to speak past his bruised vocal cords. Tears of frustration and regret pooled in his eyes until one ran down the side of his face and Jimin felt his face heating in embarrassment.

Noticing his distress, Yoongi pulled both hands up to cup Jimin’s face around the breathing mask. “Oh sweetheart, don’t,” he said as he wiped the tear away with his thumb and pressed his lips to the corner of each eye. “Don’t cry, Baby. Your voice will come back and you’ll be yammering away in no time,” he teased gently, smiling down at him. “The only thing that matters right now is that you are alive and awake. Everything else will come in time.”

Yoongi laid a kiss on his partner’s forehead and stood up. “I need to call in a nurse to examine you, and I have to tell the others. We have all been so worried; I know they are going to want to see you.”

Jimin nodded as best he could and then closed his increasingly weighty eyelids to rest until the nurse came in.

 

* * *

 

The room seemed more than large enough until seven people tried to crowd around the bed at once. Seokjin, Namjoon, his arm still in a sling, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Teahyung all hovered anxiously as the nurse came in to check on Jimin for the third time in as many hours. None of them seemed to want to let the patient out of their sight and Yoongi watched as all of them managed to be completely underfoot every time the nurse turned around. Finally, in good-natured exaggeration, the nurse threatened to kick them all out if they didn’t back off, and the men grumblingly stepped away to lurk on the edges of the allowed distance.

Yoongi tried to rub the fatigue from his eyes and realized that it had been several hours since his last cup of coffee. Letting everyone know he was going to the vending machine and that he would be right back, Yoongi left the shadowed hush of the hospital room and stepped into the fluorescent glare of the hallway, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the comparative brightness. He walked the now familiar path to the vending machine with his leg muscles on auto pilot, letting his mind center on the fact that Jimin was awake.

He was awake.

Yoongi didn’t think he had ever seen anything so beautiful as those warm brown eyes blinking up at him groggily and he stood in front of the coffee dispenser staring blankly at the selections as he fought the urge to run back and assure himself that he hadn’t imagined it.

He lifted a shaking hand to push a button on the machine but dropped it back down to his side as the weight of the last month slammed down on him and pushed him to the floor. After the initial panic on the night of the event, Yoongi’s emotions had gone into lockdown, only seeping to the surface when he wasn’t paying attention. The rest of the time had been fighting with the hospital to let him stay with Jimin, ensuring that Jimin would be moved to the executive suite once he was out of intensive care, contacting his family so that they knew he had been hurt, keeping the other men coordinated so that none of their businesses would suffer as they rotated through the hospital in shifts, and never ever letting himself think about anything other than Jimin’s recovery.

But Jimin had woken up.

He had woken up and though it would be slow, the doctors said he would regain most, if not all of his range of movement.

Without the rest of it to focus on, the impact of what had almost happened slammed into Yoongi so hard he nearly passed out.

_I could have lost him._

_I DID lose him for a few minutes._

_He died on the fucking table and even the surgeons don’t know how he came back._

_I couldn’t save him and I almost lost him._

_Oh gods what would I have done if he’d been taken from me..._

Yoongi’s breath squeezed out in a whimper as pent up grief and terror gripped his chest, mixing painfully with the overwhelming relief that poured through him. Burying his head in his hands he finally let the emotions that had been beating against the façade of his coping mechanism swallow him whole and tears ran down his face unchecked as his shoulders shook with wracking sobs.

A hand came to his back and started rubbing it in small circles and Yoongi barely registered Taehyung’s tear-streaked face as the other man sat on the floor beside him in silence; saying nothing as he comforted him and let him cry.

Jimin would live.

Jimin would live and Yoongi would not lose him again.

Anger rose beneath the overwhelming surge of feeling and a seed of ice planted itself in Yoongi’s exposed heart as he wept.

He would see Jimin get better. He would make sure he was safe, and then he would find out what really happened. 

If someone had done this intentionally, if someone had set out to hurt Jimin or Namjoon on purpose, Yoongi would find out.

And then he would make sure it never happened again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Author's Note*** Hello, my lovelies. Sorry for the long stretch between chapters, life has been crazy. Fair warning that I am trying my hand at writing things getting a little...um...physical so if that is not for you TURN BACK NOW.  
> The rest of you, loves, carry on as usual. Thanks for reading!! <3 <3

“Shellfish extract?” Jimin asked incredulously, looking up from his cards and regarding his friend from across the hospital bed table that was suspended over his lap.

Jungkook nodded grimly and reached for a card from the top of the stack, adjusting himself to sit more squarely at the foot of the bed as he flipped it face-up on the table. “Police investigation is showing that the extract was added to the champagne. I’m sure they will talk to you about it when they interview you tomorrow.” He grouped the semi-matched set into a small stack on the table and gestured for Jimin to take his turn.

“They have already interviewed me. Multiple times,” Jimin said with annoyance as he played a card from his hand, flipped a card from the stack, and took a junk set. “I don’t know what else they hope to get from me at this point. The wait staff was all hired from ConnectAll, but I only knew a few of them. I can’t think of anyone who would want to specifically hurt myself or Namjoon-hyung, so I’m not sure what else to say. We don’t even know that we were targeted. It could have been for anyone. Or maybe it was just some sick prank.”

“From what I have gleaned, not that I was eavesdropping or anything, they seem to think it was targeted because only the tray that was served to you guys was dosed,” Jungkook responded as he played a card from his hand, drew another from the stack, and looked at it a moment before his serious face broke into a grin and he slapped the card down on the table. “Ha!” he said triumphantly. “Godori!” He pulled the set out of the stack and set it to the side. “That gives me the win, I believe. Ha! Pay up, suckerrrrrrrr.” he gloated.

Jimin rolled his eyes and tossed his remaining cards onto the table. Gesturing to a stack of Jello cups on the edge of the table, he nodded in mock graciousness. “Have at it, I don’t like those things anyway,” he laughed as Jungkook tore one open and began noisily trying to slurp out the contents.

“Hyung,” Jimin said to Yoongi who was once again planted at his station in the corner amidst his laptop and stacks of papers. “Why don’t you come play this with Kookie? I’m done for now, I think.”

Yoongi chuckled and shook his head. “No way. He has trounced me enough times, thank you, and we were playing for higher stakes than Jello cups. My poor wallet will be feeling that loss for a month.”

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly. “Iffs no’ my fau’t you suck at Go/Ftop,” he said with a mouth full of Jello that he swallowed in an audible gulp. “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

Both of the other men laughed at that and without thinking, Jimin whipped a supporting pillow out from behind his back and threw it at Jungkook. His levity was cut short by the searing pain in his side that the action caused, and he closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths as small beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and nausea slid through his belly.

Jungkook and Yoongi were immediately at his side, concern pulling their expressions tight as they hovered helplessly while Jimin tried to work through the agony. “Jiminie,” Yoongi said softly as he rolled the tray-table away from the bed, “please let me call the nurse so she can give you something for the pain.”

Jimin shook his head as he panted with the effort of trying not to pass out. “No…Hyung. No meds.”

“But you are going to have a harder time healing if-“

“I said NO MEDS,” Jimin said forcefully, grunting and falling back on the bed as the twist of his body brought a fresh wave of torment.

Yoongi opened his mouth to respond but Jungkook caught his eye and shook his head, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Jungkook stepped forward and gently helped Jimin reposition so that he was lying on his other side. “Ok, Hyung, we won’t call the nurse. Why don’t you see if you can rest for a bit until you feel a little better and I will take Min-ssi down to the cafeteria and get him something to eat,” he prompted as he draped a blanket over Jimin’s shoulders. 

Jimin reached up to squeeze his friend’s hand in affirmation before settling under the covers and trying to relax his tense muscles; his face pale and drawn from the pain. Yoongi watched for a moment; his eyebrows knitted together in a frown, before turning stiffly and stalking out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Jungkook caught up with him in the hall and the two walked to the elevators without saying a word. Once the elevator car arrived, they stepped onto it and Yoongi leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed as Jungkook pressed the button for the first floor. They rode in silence for a few moments before Yoongi spoke.

“How long,” he asked tersely.

“…What?”

“How long has he been clean?” the question rumbled in Yoongi’s throat like he had trouble getting the words out.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi for a moment before turning back to face the elevator doors. “Four years,” he answered quietly. “He’s been clean for four years.” He turned fully to face his companion. “But how did you know that he-“

“I’ve seen it before,” Yoongi interrupted curtly as the elevator halted its descent and the doors opened. He walked past the younger man and out into the busyness of the main visitor area with Jungkook hot on his heels to follow him outside. Yoongi paced to the side of the building and had a cigarette out and lit before Jungkook caught up with him.

“So what does that mean?” Jungkook asked warily.

Yoongi glanced over at him as he blew out a cloud of smoke. “What do you mean, ‘what does it mean’? It doesn’t mean anything,” he said, his tone rising in agitation. “Other than that I maybe should have known about that sometime in the past month and a half that I have been living in the House of Narcotics Access waiting for him to wake up. Jesus, do you know how many times I have pushed him to take something for the pain in just the last week? He never reacted like that before and I only found out this morning that he has been refusing pain meds since he woke up.”

Jungkook watched Yoongi pace on the edge of the sidewalk. “So…what are you going to do?” he asked, visibly bracing himself for whatever the reply was.

“What kind of question is that? I do-” Yoongi stopped mid-motion and gaped at the other man as the meaning of what he was being asked hit him like a slap. “Holy shit you are trying to ask me if I am going to leave him or something?” is asked in disbelief. “Are you fucking KIDDING me?!” Yoongi stepped closer to Jungkook, his body practically vibrating with sudden rage as he looked up into the other man’s eyes which were wide with surprise. “Jeon Jungkook, I ought to punch you right in your fucking face, you dick twitch. How dare you even _imply_ that I would leave that man. For _any reason?!_ ” He clenched his fists to his side as the anger rode him, aware that he was overreacting to the question and unable to stop himself, the stress of the last several weeks funnelling into this unintentional outlet.

“I have been here every goddamned day waiting for him to get better, waiting for him to pull through, waiting for him to live so I can at least fucking breathe without choking on my own goddamned heart and you wonder if I am going to leave him because he’s an _addict_?! Fuck you!” he shouted, no longer minding the volume of his voice.

“No fuck you for getting in my face because I am worried about him!” Jungkook yelled back, not moving an inch as Yoongi crowded his personal space. “You’ve been here a little over a month? Well I’ve been here since I was five fucking years old! I know more of his fucking secrets than anyone else and that _includes_ Hoseok and Taehyung; I know everything he has been through, and I know how he has suffered. You think this is the first big thing to happen to him?!” he gestured to the hospital grounds. “This is fucking _nothing_ , and you don’t know jack shit about anything! You’ve seen addiction before? Well good for fucking you. I’ve seen it too. On him. And I know for a fact that none of that bullshit was his fault, but he went through it anyway and people he cared about dropped him like the habit that almost broke him. And you know how I know? Because I WAS FUCKING THERE FOR IT.” He screamed, leaning down into Yoongi’s face. “So you can fuck ALL THE WAY off with your ‘you should have told me’ bullshit like you have some kind of motherfucking right, man, _fuck you_ ,” Jungkook spat as he turned on his heels and walked back to the entrance of the hospital in long angry strides; leaving Yoongi standing on the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

 _I’m an asshole._ Yoongi thought for the umpteenth time as he lit his third cigarette. He didn’t really want another smoke, but it meant he had an excuse not to go back up to the room just yet. He cringed when that thought crossed his mind.  
_And apparently a coward too. ___

He felt like a jerk for taking his anger out on Jungkook. The man did not deserve that at all, he’d been nothing but kind and supportive. Shit, they’d all been like that – comforting Yoongi when they were hurting too, joking with him, including him, accepting him…they treated him like he had always been part of their odd little family, and he had just dressed one of them down like he was the scum of the earth.

_Gods, I am SUCH an asshole._

He didn’t know what was wrong with him; he’d been more on edge since Jimin had woken up, and once the initial relief of knowing that he wasn’t going to lose his partner had lessened, he’d found himself fighting not to climb the walls at times. Jungkook was right, though; Yoongi had no place making demands of anyone. He was the new guy. He was the outsider. He hadn’t earned the right yet.

 _Well…_ he thought as he stubbed out the half smoked cigarette and his stomach rolled a little from too much nicotine. _Time to start earning._

He took a deep breath and walked back inside.

 

* * *

 

The hallway outside Jimin’s room was bustling with people. All five of the other men were gathered in a tight circle with the detective that had been working on the benefit incident, and two uniforms were standing to either side of Jimin’s door as nurses came in and out to do the daily dressing change. A small knot of fear that had only recently loosened began to reform in Yoongi’s chest as he hurried forward.

“Detective,” Yoongi said as he approached the group. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.” He looked questioningly at the others while he bowed and shook the policeman’s hand.  
“Someone broke into Jimin-hyung’s house last night,” Jungkook said tightly. “It doesn’t look like they took anything, but they vandalized it from top to bottom.” 

Yoongi blanched and looked at the detective. “Who the hell would have done that?! Is it the same person who dosed the champagne?”

The detective regarded Yoongi a moment before nodding. “If those events are connected, then Park-ssi was definitely the target at the benefit. Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against him?”

“Not since we last spoke, no. If you will excuse me,” Yoongi said as he noticed the last of the nurses leave Jimin’s room. He glanced briefly over at Jungkook who nodded slightly before turning his attention back to the detective, and stepped to the closed door between the officers.

The hospital room was dark, save for the small slice of light spilling through the barely open bathroom door, and Yoongi could see the outline of Jimin sitting in a wheelchair facing one of the large windows. Closing the door behind him, he walked softly to the other man’s side and pulled one of the nearby chairs up to sit next to him.

He let his gaze rest on Jimin for a moment, his eyes drinking in the planes of his face that the dim glow of the city outside threw into relief. Jimin didn’t turn to acknowledge his presence and the utter stillness of the younger man was disconcerting. The silence hung heavily between them as Yoongi tried to think of something to say. 

Finally, it was Jimin who broke through the quiet.

“I didn’t know if you were going to come back,” he said, speaking so softly that Yoongi could barely hear him.

Yoongi felt a band of cold wrap around his heart. “Why in the world wouldn’t I come back?” he asked, the statement throwing him somewhat off guard.

Jimin continued to face the window as he answered. “Because you were angry when you left. Because now you know…” his voice trailed off and his breath hitched slightly.

Alarm bounced around in Yoongi’s chest as the light that slanted across Jimin’s face glistened on a drop that slid down his cheek. “Jimin, look at me,” he said, his voice rough with concern.

When Jimin didn’t turn his head, Yoongi got out of his chair and knelt in front of the wounded man; his hands resting on the arms of the wheelchair.

“Baby, I wasn’t angry at you. I was just angry. I think I have been angry, I just have a hard time keeping a lid on it sometimes.”

“I’m so sorry, Hyung,” Jimin said, his gaze still trained over Yoongi’s head. “I know you didn’t sign up for any of this. We have only been on a few dates and you have been so good to me and I didn’t mean for-“

“No.” Yoongi said firmly, rising up on his knees to take Jimin’s face in his hands. That precious sweet face that he had worried would never smile for him again. “Don’t you apologize, Jiminie. None of what has happened was your fault, and no one forced me to be here, I want to be here.”

Jimin’s eyes finally lowered to look at the man in front of him, and Yoongi could see hurt in the unshed tears that threatened to spill over. Jimin opened his mouth to speak but Yoongi cut him off.

“And I don’t care. I don’t care that you’re a recovering addict. I know what that kind of problem can do to a person. I was mad because I didn’t know. You hid that from me and that had to have been so hard for you with everything else that you are trying to deal with and I was mad that I didn’t notice. Kookie told me I was being an ass and he wasn’t wrong, but I am not mad at you. Not at all. Do you believe me?”

Jimin’s eyes searched his face for a moment before he nodded slowly. “I have been a lot of trouble for you, Hyung. We haven’t been dating that long. You don’t need someone like me to weigh you down like this,” he said dejectedly.

Yoongi rose to his feet in front of him and leaned on the arms of the wheelchair until their noses were almost touching. “Being dramatic is not like you. And you should know that no one tells me what I do or don’t need. I get to decide that. And what I need,” he said, staring into the shadows of Jimin’s eyes from inches away, “is for you to be healthy and happy. I am hoping that you can be those things with me.”

He held Jimin’s gaze until the other man tilted his head forward and kissed him sweetly. Yoongi’s heart flipped over violently at the feel of Jimin’s mouth on his and he brought a hand up to stroke through Jimin’s messy locks as he deepened the kiss.

He broke away from the embrace after only a few seconds, mindful of his partner’s weakened state. Jimin’s breathing was already coming in shorter bursts and while Yoongi loved that he affected him like that, he knew that he was not up for the level of passion that just one kiss would inevitably stir up. Jimin smiled up into Yoongi’s face and the ice in his chest melted away.

 _Tell him, you idiot. Tell him that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to. Tell him that you love him._ Yoongi thought as he stood back upright.

He opened his mouth to say it, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead, he smiled back and said, “Let’s get you back into bed and we can talk about how you are going to come stay with me until whomever is targeting you has been caught.”

Jimin’s eyes widened and his head turned to follow Yoongi as he went around to the back of the wheelchair and disengaged the brakes.

“Stay with you?” Jimin all but sputtered in surprise. “But Hyung, it could be a while before I am able to go back to my house.”

Yoongi pushed Jimin over to the bed and put the brakes back on. “It will be fine. I mostly work from home anyway, so I can be there to help you while you recover.” He came back around to help the smaller man to his feet. “And besides, you gave me such a scare that I am going to need to check on you constantly just to remind myself that you are ok. It will be less annoying for everyone involved if you are already nearby,” he teased, making Jimin chuckle even as he winced from the pain of getting back into the bed.

He helped his partner scoot over so that he was firmly in the middle of the mattress, causing Jimin’s hospital gown to pull up, exposing his left leg. Jimin frantically tried to pull the gown down to hide the swirling mass of scars that marred his perfect skin on that side until Yoongi’s hand gently batted his away to assist him. He pulled the hospital gown down until it covered Jimin’s thigh, his hand caressing the gnarled flesh as he used a blanket to cover the lower half of the other man. 

“Someday you are going to tell me about that scarring, Jiminie. You are going to tell me so I can know who caused you such pain. But until then,” he said as he lightly rubbed Jimin’s leg over the blankets, “please don’t feel like you have to hide that from me. Scars do not make you less beautiful.”

“They do if it looks like half your body is melted like candle wax,” Jimin said, embarrassment thickening his voice.

“Nonsense.” Yoongi said briskly as he tucked another blanket around his partner. “You are stunning and you know it. Scars just add character so shut up and let me lust after you as usual while you go on about your business.”

Jimin laughed and it made Yoongi feel ready to promise the moon if he could just keep hearing that sound.

 

* * *

 

“You might have mentioned that I would be inheriting a cat also,” Yoongi said as Hoseok handed him a carrier. Hoseok just chuckled as he headed back to the elevator. “Oh, um, by the way, Jimin has a cat,” he said snarkily. “I was keeping the little asshole while Jiminie was incarcerated in the Land of Needles and Loud Machines, but now that he is out for good behavior, he needs his furbaby back, right? Right. Have fun with Gramps, I’m going to go get your human houseguest,” he chortled as the elevator doors closed behind him.

“Gramps? Are you fucking kidding me?!” Yoongi yelled at the empty hallway. With a sigh he lifted up the carrier and peered at the agitated creature inside. Gramps was in full stressed-out-fluff mode and he regarded Yoongi warily from where he had squished himself into the back of the box.

“Listen, cat. We’re going to have to get along, so just come to terms with the fact that you can’t claw up my leather furniture. Also, I will turn you into mittens if you break my house,” he said firmly. Gramps growled in a low rumble and lifted his paw up as though preparing for Yoongi to try and pet him.

“Ha. Nice try, asshole. I’m not sticking my hand in there. You can just stay in your nice little cage until your person comes home.”

He shook his head as he bent down to pick up the lidded litter box and carried both containers inside his condo.

 

* * *

 

Jimin sighed in frustration as he gingerly shifted himself in the chair. He was so tired of sitting on the couch or in the bed, and neither place was conducive to the mountain of paperwork that had piled up since he had been convalescing. Yoongi had set up a desk in his office for him in case he needed to use it, but Jimin wished the office chair that went with it were as forgiving as it looked. His whole body ached.

He’d been staying with Yoongi for almost three weeks now, and while Hoseok had been handling the majority of the administrative duties for Tandem, there were certain things that had to have Jimin’s approval or signature, so his business partner had sent Jimin’s assistant Lisa over with a crate full of files. He’d let her fuss over him for a bit before they got down to business, and when she’d finally left, Jimin was caught up on the goings on at his dance academy.

The Wings show was running again for its second installment with Jimin’s friend from college, Taemin, filling in as lead. They had kept all of the numbers for the program the same, with the exception of Jimin’s solo dance, and the dance that Taemin had choreographed for his replacement solo fit nicely with the theme and had been well received by critics. Jimin had been saving the reviews he’d found so he could go over them with Taemin later. Taemin was an incredible dancer and a dear friend, and Jimin knew perfectly well that the only reason he had remained as a senior instructor and choreographer at Tandem for so long was because he was fond of Jimin and Hoseok and liked the dynamic of their friendship. Jimin was glad that the other man had agreed to do this and was pleased with the overall reception of the show’s changes.

He felt a blanket of melancholy fold over him for a moment as he put the newspaper he was holding aside and reached for a stack of personnel files that needed to be reviewed. 

He missed dancing. 

He missed it so much.

He missed the way he could wrap himself in the music and let it flow through his limbs.

He missed the pleasant twinge of hard worked muscles after a long practice.

Hell, he missed just being able to extend an arm all the way out without almost fainting from the pain in his side.

The dismal mood shifted into irritation as the restlessness that he’d recently become so familiar with settled into his bones.

Jimin had a difficulty being still for long stretches of time and he felt like all he had done in the past two months was stagnate while the rest of the world went on without him.

He couldn’t go out, really, because while the overall media frenzy that had first accompanied his hospitalization had lessened, he was still bombarded with interview requests daily and reporters could be seen skulking around the complex, hoping to catch a glimpse of the invalid.

He couldn’t dance, he couldn’t walk far without help, and he couldn’t even stand for long periods without his muscles tightening up. 

Jimin was relegated to Yoongi’s spacious high-rise apartment. 

He didn’t even leave to go to physical therapy after an incident where a clinic employee had let a photographer into the therapy building where they had caught some truly annoying photos of Jimin struggling through a rehabilitation session, the pain of his activities lining his face in an unflattering grimace. The photos had been on every gossip rag and blog in the city the next day and the day after that, the physical therapist had starting coming to Yoongi’s apartment for their sessions.

Jimin was trapped.

Trapped in a beautiful prison where his every need was tended to except his need for movement.

As soon as he assigned the word “prison” to his living situation he felt a pang of guilt. Yoongi had been nothing but kind to him and had even gone so far as to refuse an in-home caretaker that first week, preferring to tend to Jimin himself.

Jimin sighed again as his irritation morphed into a different agitation. Yoongi had been attentive and sweet and his penchant for working from home meant that they got to spend countless hours together. He enjoyed his partner’s company immensely, Jimin was rarely as comfortable with anyone as he was with Yoongi, but that comfort was disrupted by the constant frustration that accompanied the interactions. 

Jimin found Yoongi distractingly sexy and he knew that Yoongi found him attractive as well, if past interactions were any indication, but since the event at the benefit, Yoongi had been so careful with Jimin.  
Too careful. 

As if he were made of glass. 

Jimin appreciated that, logically, they could not do anything strenuous, and they were going to have to talk boundaries before they had actual sex, but Jimin was getting nothing. Yoongi would pet his head or rub his back affectionately, and the first few days after he was conscious in the hospital had been humiliatingly intimate as Yoongi had helped him to the bathroom or massaged his legs to keep them from cramping. But Jimin was improving every day now; he was much more self-sufficient than he had been, and still the most he had gotten from Yoongi was a quick peck on the forehead this morning as the other man left to run errands.

 _Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore._ Jimin thought and his heart squeezed in on itself at the idea. _Maybe the scars on my leg really did turn him off. Or maybe…maybe it is just everything. He has had to care for me and do everything for me for way longer than we were even dating before. Maybe he is just over it._

He felt his eyes sting as he thought about how much the other man had done for him – about what a burden he had become on their brand new relationship. Jimin blinked his eyes rapidly as he stared at the ceiling, willing away the tears that threatened to spill over. 

_Pull yourself together, Park._ He admonished himself, unwilling to wallow in the morose feelings any longer than he had to. _Yoongi keeps telling you that he wants you here, but you aren’t going to know if that’s still true unless you ask him._

He shook his head and restacked the papers that surrounded him - he wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight, he was too fidgety. He rose awkwardly from the chair and breathed through the discomfort that creaked through his tired body; frozen from sitting in one position for too long.

Slowly, Jimin made his way out of the office, closing the door behind him and easing down the few steps that led into the living room and kitchen. As he was navigating his descent, he heard the soft beeping of the lock combination on the front door. The sound of the door opening gave him pause for a moment, but he was instantly both relieved and amused as he heard a soft thump followed by cussing and many threats towards Jimin’s cat. He chuckled. Gramps had taken to waiting under the bench in the entry way for Yoongi to come home so he could dart underfoot. The calico didn’t actually want to go outside, he just wanted to throw himself under the feet of whoever was coming through the door, making sure to be as much of a nuisance as possible before he ran to find Jimin so he could meow pitifully. He did it to everyone, but the cat seemed to get a demented pleasure from tripping Yoongi specifically.

Jimin’s grin was wide as Yoongi came sputtering into view, his arms full of precariously stuffed paper grocery bags, preceded by a lightning quick fuzzball that streaked through the room and up onto the back of the couch, yelling loudly for sympathy from Jimin.

Jimin stepped off the last stair and leaned on the couch to scratch under Gramps’ chin. Yoongi’s face broke into a smile as he came through the archway from the foyer and saw Jimin and he walked into the open kitchen to set down the bags.

“How are you feeling?” he threw over his shoulder as he started pulling groceries out. Jimin walked around the couch and made his way across the living room until he reached the bar. Propping himself on it, he remained standing as he answered.

“I’m ok,” he replied. “Lisa came by with a stack of paperwork for Tandem that feels like it’s judging me every time I look at it,” he said with mock annoyance. “She made a big deal about everything too, and brought me a pot of jjigae and a huge tub of kimchi; they’re in the fridge.”

Yoongi quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t eat any?”

“Oh I did,” Jimin said as he circumnavigated the bar to go to the fridge. “I ate two bowls of the soup, but you need to understand how much food she brought.” He opened the refrigerator and gestured grandly towards its contents. “Behold. Enough jjigae to feed a family of twelve and any guests that may also just show up.”

Yoongi popped his head around the door to look inside and his eyes widened when he saw the massive containers of food. “She does know it’s just the two of us here…right?” he asked with a bemused expression on his face. 

Jimin’s laughed and pushed Yoongi’s head away. “Yes, Hyung! I told her I was going to give some to Gramps because there was no way we could eat that much soup before it went bad.”

Yoongi eyed the cat from across the room with distrust. “Yeah, well, maybe he will choke on it.”

“Hey!” Jimin admonished. “That’s my cat, thank you.”

“Yes, well, he’s an asshole cat.”

“You’re an asshole cat,” Jimin mumbled as he began rummaging through the closest grocery bag.

“Sometimes,” Yoongi agreed with amusement, the mirth on his face dissolving when he turned back towards Jimin.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded as he stepped forward and snatched the items out of the younger man’s hands. 

Jimin looked annoyed. “Putting away the things that go in the fridge. Obviously.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Yoongi said, shaking his head with a frown. “You can’t do anything strenuous.”

“I am no expert,” Jimin began, irritation making his voice sound pinched. “But I am reasonably certain that putting a small jar of minced garlic onto a shelf that is waist height does not count as strenuous activity.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed as Jimin pushed past him to grab more things from the bags on the counter. He put the items he was holding on a shelf in the fridge and turned back just in time to grab the vegetables that Jimin had picked up.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Jimin huffed out, his face heating as anger began to build in his stomach.

Yoongi tossed the veggies in, shut the fridge door, and put his back against it. Crossing his arms he looked at Jimin coolly. “No, I am not kidding,” he said evenly.

“And what exactly do you think wielding a few stalks of celery is going to do to me? Hmm? Do you think I am going to joust with them?” Jimin snapped. “Jesus Christ, Hyung, you don’t let me do _anything_ to help around here!”

Yoongi stepped forward, crowding Jimin against the bar, his own frustration stamped across his features. “Of course I don’t,” he said, his calm tone beginning to fray at the edges. “I don’t let you help because you are recovering from a very serious wound. You are not supposed to be helping. You. Are. Recovering,” he bit out; turning from Jimin and stepping across the tiled floor to the bags on the counter.

Jimin’s patience ran out. “Fucking stop it!” he said tightly, vexation holding his chest in a vise. “I do actually know what almost happened to me, I was there for it. I am not some fragile creature that needs to be hovered over constantly. It’s not like I died! I eve-“

“YOU _ALMOST_ DIED.” Yoongi roared as he wheeled back towards Jimin, moving forward until they were only inches apart. “You were there for it, and I cannot imagine what it was like for you, but you were not aware the whole time like I was. I was also _there_ , Park Jimin. And don’t TELL me how fragile you aren’t because I held you while you tried to bleed out on me!” 

Yoongi gripped Jimin’s upper arms as the stunned man stared at him with wide eyes. “I knelt in a pool of your blood and watched you suffocate and I wondered what was going to kill you first, the lack of oxygen, the blood loss, or the cocktail of crazy shit that Tae injected you with,” he said so quietly it was almost a whisper, his voice scraping through the emotions that choked him, his wild eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I almost lost you, you asshole. I just found you, goddammit,” he said desperately and he gave the other man a small shake as he dug his fingers into his arms. “I just found you, and in the time it took for you to swallow a mouthful of champagne, I almost fucking lost you. I have never been so scared in my whole fucking life.” 

Yoongi released Jimin’s biceps and inhaled shakily. “And now you’re here, and I can take care of you. I can make sure you get better. Because I need for you to be better, Jimin. I know I’m being selfish, but I need that. I also know you are feeling pent up here and I am sorry, but I am so afraid that if I let you out of my sight for more than a little while, something is going to happen, someone is going to get to you, and I will lose you for real.” He hung his head as the anger seeped out of him and he backed up to lean against the counter opposite his partner. Propping his hands behind him, he looked at the floor. 

Jimin stood unmoving, stricken by the emotion being displayed by the man in front of him. Guilt moved through him; he hadn’t even thought about what the ordeal had been like for Yoongi. 

“Hyung,” he said gently, stepping across until he stood toe to toe with the older man. “Hyung, I’m sorry. I know you are just trying to take care of me.” When Yoongi didn’t look up Jimin put a finger under his partner’s chin and lifted his head. 

“I’m sorry I was being snippy,” he said, looking Yoongi in the eye in that intimate way that only people who are the same height can understand. “I’m just restless and, I don’t know, cranky, I guess. I lashed out at you and I shouldn’t have. Forgive me?” he gave his partner a small questioning smile that widened when Yoongi nodded his head. 

Jimin leaned in and closed the last few inches between them, bringing his mouth to Yoongi’s in a sweet press of lips. He kissed the other man softly, gently cupping his face with one hand and twining their fingers together with the other; tentatively seeing how much his partner would allow. A soft groan rumbled in the bottom of Yoongi’s chest as he leaned his own head forward and deepened the kiss. 

The pressure of his mouth on Jimin’s was firm and Jimin felt Yoongi’s tongue sweeping along the seam of his lips, demanding entrance as his arms slid high around Jimin’s torso, careful to avoid the wound on his left side. Jimin opened his mouth willingly and melted into Yoongi, his own arms wrapping around the older man’s waist as he surrendered to him. 

_At last_ , Jimin thought, the taste of Yoongi’s mouth intoxicating him. 

Yoongi’s kisses become more forceful as he felt Jimin’s submission, and he brought his hands up to fist in the younger man’s hair, wrenching his head back to turn them until the smaller man was pushed slowly against the counter. Yoongi’s desperation was evident as he ate at Jimin’s mouth, his tongue darting in to spar with Jimin’s as he devoured the moans that were being ripped from his partner’s throat. 

Jimin was a live wire, his nerve endings screaming in the wash of sensation that Yoongi was causing and he felt himself lengthening and growing more and more painfully hard with every sweep of Yoongi’s tongue against his. Need barreled through him and pooled low in his belly as Yoongi untangled his hands from Jimin’s hair and brought them down to grab his ass, pulling him carefully but firmly against him and grinding their erections against each other. 

A loud groan tore itself from Jimin as Yoongi drug his mouth away from his lips to begin moving along his jaw, alternating between planting kisses on the soft skin and biting gently at the sharp edge of his jawline. Jimin gingerly wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck so as not to pull his wound and hung on for dear life, his breathing coming in labored pants as Yoongi devastated him. 

Yoongi dropped his head to the crook of Jimin’s neck and he inhaled sharply, drawing in his scent and causing goosebumps to break out across Jimin’s body. He nuzzled into Jimin’s shoulder for a moment before biting down sharply and pulling with his mouth, drawing blood to just under the surface of the skin so abruptly that Jimin knew there would be a mark. The idea of Yoongi marking him made Jimin squirm and his cock twitched against Yoongi’s pelvis as their hips rocked together. 

Yoongi pulled his head from Jimin’s shoulder and began raining light kisses against his collarbone.  
“It was almost impossible to keep my hands off of you these past two weeks,” Yoongi ground out between kisses. “I was afraid I was going to hurt you, but it was all I could do not to try and push you.”  
Jimin’s knees went weak at Yoongi’s words, the raw need in them piercing through his insecurities from earlier. 

“I thought…you didn’t want me anymore, Hyung.” Jimin panted as Yoongi reached for the hem of his partner’s shirt and lifted it over his head, tossing it on the counter. Jimin shivered as Yoongi’s hands slid around to his ass again, once more avoiding the bandages on his left side as he caressed Jimin’s torso on the way there. 

“How could you ever think that,” Yoongi said huskily as he claimed Jimin’s mouth again, speaking against his lips as he replied. “It has been torture for me to keep my hands to myself when you have been lying around my house for two weeks. I know you’ve felt like shit, but you look so goddamned sexy I can’t...” his voice trailed off as he kissed Jimin deeply and brought his hands up to the waistband of Jimin’s pants to slide them inside, grabbing his ass with no barrier of cloth between his palms and Jimin’s skin. 

Yoongi slid his hands around the sides of Jimin’s ass but Jimin stopped Yoongi’s left hand with his own when he got to the edge of the scarring on that leg. Yoongi broke the kiss to look Jimin in the eyes. 

Jimin could feel his face heat even more than it already was and he tried to pull Yoongi’s hand away from the scar tissue. “Hyung, I - ” he began, but Yoongi interrupted him. 

“Baby, I have already seen your leg. I know what it looks like. Please don’t push me away, I think you are beautiful all over.” 

Jimin’s breathing was ragged as he tightened his grip on Yoongi’s wrist, embarrassment causing his erection to flag. 

Yoongi leaned his forehead against Jimin’s. “I’ll stop if you want me to, Lover, but all I am trying to do is give you pleasure. I have seen your leg and it doesn’t change how I look at you,” he said as he kissed the smaller man gently on the corner of his mouth. “It doesn’t change how much I want you,” he went on as he kissed the other corner. “You will just have to trust me, Baby. We aren’t going to do anything you don’t want to do, but I really want to make you feel good. Can you trust me, Jimin?” he asked as he ran his tongue along Jimin’s full bottom lip. 

Jimin hesitated for a moment and looked at Yoongi, his partner’s mouth was swollen from their kisses and his eyes were hooded; the pupils blown wide with desire. Without speaking, Jimin slowly nodded his consent and released his hold on the other man’s wrist. Yoongi growled and slammed his mouth back down onto Jimin’s, pulling at the drawstring of the smaller man’s pants until he could shove them down. He wrapped a hand around Jimin’s cock and felt it harden again rapidly as Jimin trembled at the contact. 

“Oh Baby,” Yoongi breathed reverently, looking down at his now full hand and marveling at the perfection of Jimin’s straining erection. “You are so beautiful, I can’t wait to taste you.” 

Jimin shuddered at Yoongi’s words and he put his hands on the counter behind him to prop himself up. Yoongi dropped to his knees and ran his right hand up and down along Jimin’s length, reveling in the feeling of satiny smooth skin over steel, while his other hand caressed the path of scars that poured down Jimin’s leg from the juncture of his thigh to his knee. 

Jimin’s cock sat heavy and thick in Yoongi’s hand and the older man caught a drop of pre-cum that beaded at the tip, swirling it around the engorged head with his thumb until Jimin thought he was going to collapse in on himself. Jimin threw his head back and closed his eyes, trying to let his equilibrium catch up to the shifting of the ground underneath him. He nearly came out of his skin as he felt a soft wet heat close around him and a husky moan tumbled from his chest as Yoongi took his cock all the way to the back of his throat. 

Yoongi pulled his head back slowly, his tongue pressing and swirling along the underside of Jimin’s length as he did, until he came to the head where he suckled at the tip for a moment. Jimin had never felt anything like it, and he had to put all of his concentration into standing as his knees threatened to give out. 

Jimin was no stranger to oral sex, either giving or receiving, but nothing could have prepared him for the intensity of Yoongi’s mouth on his cock. The sight of his partner’s lips stretched around Jimin’s width as he moved his head up and down, taking Jimin to the root before pulling back with gentle teeth and clever tongue was almost more than he could handle. Looking up from his position on his knees, Yoongi reached up and traced Jimin’s lips with a finger until Jimin sucked the digit into his mouth, stroking his tongue around it in time to the bobbing of Yoongi’s head. 

Yoongi withdrew his finger from Jimin’s mouth and the younger man gasped with pleasure as he felt Yoongi reach between his legs and run it along the sensitive skin behind his balls, moving the finger along until it was pressed against Jimin’s hole. 

Jimin began whimpering with need, his hips thrusting jerkily against Yoongi’s mouth as he tried to impale himself on that finger simultaneously. 

“Hyung…” Jimin pleaded as he felt his balls draw up tightly against his body. “Please…I need…” 

“What do you need, Baby?” Yoongi said as he popped his mouth from around Jimin’s cock and began stroking it with one hand while he fondled his ass with the other. 

“You don’t get to come until you tell me what you need. You want to come, don’t you?” Yoongi asked in a low voice that only made Jimin writhe more. Yoongi increased the speed at which he was jerking his partner’s dick and pushed the finger of his other hand into the tight ring of muscle. “Where do you want to come, Baby. Tell me.” 

Jimin’s lungs were on fire and his legs felt like they were going buckle. 

“Please hyung…” 

“Please what, Baby?” 

“I…I need to come…” 

“I’ll bet you do,” Yoongi replied as he slowly began working his finger in and out of Jimin in a rhythm that countered the one his hand was making while it jerked him off. 

“I…” Jimin shuddered as he tried to form a coherent sentence. 

“Where, Jimin? Tell me where you want to come.” Yoongi insisted. 

The pressure building inside of him was too much, he didn’t think he was going to last much longer no matter what Yoongi said. 

“In…your mouth, Hyung.” Jimin gasped as though dragging his voice across gravel, straining as his hips pushed themselves into Yoongi’s hands. “I want, no…I _need_ to come in your mouth.” 

Yoongi grinned his gummy smile, only this time it was laced with lust, and he shifted himself in front of his lover. 

“That’s what I was waiting for. That right there,” he said, and he took his hand off of Jimin’s erection and steadied himself on the younger man’s thigh. 

“Come!” Yoongi commanded as he sucked Jimin down his throat until his mouth sealed around the base of Jimin’s cock and he hooked his finger inside Jimin, rubbing against his prostate as Jimin shouted his pleasure and came in a scalding wave down Yoongi’s throat. 

Yoongi swallowed everything that Jimin gave him and then rose quickly to his feet; just in time to catch Jimin as his knees gave out. He chuckled quietly at the sated, if loopy, look on Jimin’s face and kissed him deeply, causing Jimin to moan again as he tasted himself on Yoongi’s tongue. 

Jimin blinked at Yoongi and smiled lazily as he reached a hand up to trace the older man’s very swollen lips.  
“Hyung…that was…wow.” 

Yoongi grinned at him again and nodded. “It was. Just imagine what it will be like when we don’t have to be careful.” 

“Oh. Oh my.” Jimin shivered at the thought, but then his brows furrowed as he looked Yoongi in the eyes. “Oh Hyung, what about you?” he asked with concern. 

Yoongi shook his head as he led Jimin over to the couch and smiled depreciatingly. “You don’t have to worry, sweetheart,” he said as he gestured to the front of his pants where a wet stain darkened the material at his crotch. “It was good for me too.” 

Jimin’s eyes widened and he let out a small laugh as Yoongi lowered him to the couch. “Now you wait here, Jiminie.” Yoongi said gently. “And I’ll be back with fresh dressing. I need to make sure you didn’t pull anything major with all of your squirming around,” he teased and Jimin blushed prettily and grabbed a pillow to hide his face. 

Yoongi kissed the top of Jimin’s head affectionately and went to go get bandages. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Author's Note*** Hello, my lovelies. Sorry for the gap between chapter postings, life remains busy. If you are on the birb app, go give us a follow @sindkyt and share with your friends.  
> Thank you for continuing to read, I hope you enjoy it. I purple all of you. ^^

“No…no please not that….”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open and he stared up at the ceiling in the muted dark of his bedroom. His eyelids were gritty and his limbs felt heavy with sleep. He rolled his head to the side and looked at the clock that glowed softly on the nightstand.

 _2:00am_ , he thought as he read the display. _I have only been out for two hours, why am I awake?_

Scrubbing a hand over his face he listened to the quiet hum of the heater before he rolled over and settled into a comfortable position to try and recapture sleep.

“…no no no…no I’m sorry…”

Yoongi sat up in bed, his heart racing. He had definitely heard something that time.

“…no….no please NO I’M SORRY STOP PLEASE…”

_Jimin!_

Now wide awake, Yoongi threw back the duvet and jumped from his bed, adrenaline pumping through his body as he sprinted for the bedroom door. Once in the living room, he could make out small sounds coming from the direction of his guest bedrooms and he ran towards them, taking the stairs two at a time as he threw himself up to the second floor, alarm choking him as he heard what sounded like a struggle.

“No, stop! I won’t do it again - I don’t want that I’m so sorry please don’t PLEASE DON’T.”

Yoongi burst into Jimin’s bedroom, his chest heaving as he came to a halt in the middle of the floor, trying to assess the situation.

His partner lay in the middle of the bed, tangled up in the bedclothes that bound him as he thrashed back and forth, small whimpering cries dribbling from each breath. Yoongi dashed forward and began pulling the covers off of the younger man, wrenching the fabric from around him and tossing it to the floor. 

Jimin’s torso was a riot of red lines from where he had scratched himself; trying to dislodge whatever was confining him in his dream. Yoongi pulled Jimin’s hands away just as he was reaching for the bandage that covered his healing wound, pinning his arms down to his side to stop him from doing more damage. Jimin’s eyes were open, unseeing as he fought his own mind, and they widened in terror at the pressure of Yoongi’s hands.

“No I said I wouldn’t mess up, please don’t do this to me again! Please please please please…” Jimin began fighting against Yoongi, tears rolling down his cheeks as his breath came in shallow panicking gasps.

Yoongi wrestled with his lover, surprised at the strength of the smaller man, his skin gone cold at the agony and fear in Jimin’s voice. He kept his voice low and soothing as he tried to bring Jimin out of his dream.

“Sweetheart wake up. Please wake up. Wherever you think you are, you are not there anymore. You are here with me, Baby, and I won’t let anyone hurt you, but you have to wake up.” Yoongi pleaded, his voice cracking as his heart broke for the man in his arms. 

Jimin was covered in a in sweat that stank like fear and he thrashed harder, jerking an arm loose and slamming the heel of his hand into Yoongi’s mouth as he twisted to wrench himself the rest of the way free. Tasting blood, Yoongi let go of Jimin’s other arm, hovering over him and grabbing the sides of his face with both hands. 

“Park Jimin!” he said forcefully. “Wake up. Right. Now.”

Jimin jerked and then stilled, awareness seeping back into his eyes as he finally looked at Yoongi.

“Yoongi-hyu-OH.” Jimin shoved the other man away from him and scrambled out of the bed; lunging for the bathroom with a hand over his mouth. Yoongi followed close behind him and caught him low around the waist as his legs gave out in front of the toilet and he began retching miserably. The older man eased Jimin’s knees to the floor and held his head with one hand, rubbing soothing circles over his back with the other as Jimin emptied his stomach.

After Jimin was violently ill for several minutes, he collapsed into a sitting position on the floor with his back propped against the bathtub; arms wrapped around his middle as he hunched around himself shivering. Yoongi made sure all evidence of Jimin’s sickness had been flushed before washing his hands and opening the cupboard under the sink. After a few moments of fishing around he produced a bottle of mouthwash, a toothbrush still in the packaging, and a small tube of toothpaste. He set his findings on the counter and grabbed a washcloth off of the linen rack on the other side of the room. Yoongi wet the washcloth with cool water and wrung it out, folding it into a rectangle as he returned to Jimin.

Kneeling before him, Yoongi put his hand under Jimin’s chin and raised his head, gently using the damp cloth to wipe the sweat off of the listless man’s face before doing the same for his torso. “I’ve set out some things for you to freshen up with,” he said matter of factly. “Can you stand?”

Jimin nodded vacantly and Yoongi helped him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his trembling shoulders to steady him as he made his way to the sink. Once his partner was propped against the counter and brushing his teeth, Yoongi went back into the bedroom to grab Jimin’s phone and watch off the nightstand. He shoved both items in his pockets and sat on the edge of the bed facing the bathroom for a moment to collect himself. Jimin’s trauma was much more severe than he thought. Whatever it was, it clearly still haunted the man and Yoongi found himself having to swallow past the increasingly familiar anger that was knotting in his throat. Who in the fuck would hurt someone like Jimin to that extent?

After a few long moments Jimin emerged from the bathroom, his face drawn tight with exhaustion, his downcast eyes red rimmed and surrounded by the little dots of broken blood vessels. Yoongi stood and went to him, wrapping his arm around the younger man’s shoulders and leading him from the bedroom.

Jimin started shaking again as they carefully navigated the stairs. “H-Hyung…I,” he stuttered, but Yoongi interrupted him.

“Not tonight,” the older man said. “We can talk about this later…we will talk about this later. But right now, you need rest.”

Jimin nodded and Yoongi led him the rest of the way downstairs and into his own bedroom. Guiding him to the closest side of the bed, Yoongi pulled back the covers and motioned for him to get under them. As Jimin was settling in bed, Yoongi placed his watch and phone on the table beside him, and then went around to his own side; crawling under the covers before reaching for the other man and pulling him back against him.

“Sleep now, Baby,” Yoongi said, softly kissing Jimin’s neck just under his ear. “Rest and know that you are safe. We can deal with everything else tomorrow.” He hugged his partner to him and waited for his breathing to even out into the rhythm of sleep before closing his own eyes and dropping into dreamlessness.

 

* * *

 

Light glowed behind his closed eyelids and there was an odd pressure on his chest. Jimin lifted his hand to push at whatever was causing the sensation and was met with plush, soft fur. His eyes creaked open a sliver to let them adjust to the morning glare pouring in through the partially open curtains and he found himself nose to nose with Gramps, the calico’s large amber eyes just inches from Jimin’s own as he lounged with all of his limbs tucked under himself; doing his best to impersonate a loaf as he waited for his caretaker to wake up and pet him. Gramps stretched his neck forward and touched his rough tongue to Jimin’s nose, rumbling in a happy purr so fierce that Jimin could feel it to his toes. With a slight chuckle, Jimin ran his hands over the cat’s soft multi-colored fluff and gave the creature’s chin a few scratches before propping his arms under himself and sitting up, dumping Gramps into his lap. 

With a huff of displeasure Gramps shook himself and jumped off the bed, slinking underneath it until only his tail was visible. Grinning, Jimin swung his legs over the side and grabbed at the tail with his toes. “You’re not very good at hiding, koyangi,” he said playfully, snorting with amusement as the tail disappeared under the bed and an answering string of what could only be feline foul language drifted out from under it as a paw appeared to swat at the offending foot. 

Jimin laughed again as he stood, taking care to mind his healing side as he stretched, momentarily disoriented when he realized that he was not in his bedroom. 

_Oh right, this is Yoongi’s room,_ he thought, glad he was alone as the events of the night before came crashing back to him, shattering his pleasant mood. Jimin sat back down on the side of the bed and dread settled in his stomach as he was hit with the enormity of what had to come next. 

He was going to have to talk to Yoongi about...this. 

The man had been there for one of his episodes, and it had been another bad one. 

Yoongi had seen the whole thing. 

There was no avoiding it, this time.

Fighting the rising anxiety, Jimin reached for his phone, noticing that Yoongi had not only thought to bring it into the bedroom last night, but had also at some point found a charger for it. He unplugged it and pulled up Kakao to message Taehyung.

**[Jimin]: Taetae. R u there?**

No response.

**[Jimin]: Taehyung, I need advice please text me back.**

Silence. 

Jimin then remembered that Tae’d had a fashion show rehearsal the night before so he was probably shacked up with one of the models that would be wearing one of his outfits. If that were the case, he wouldn’t look at his phone until that evening. Shaking his head ruefully at his friend’s proclivity for one-night-stands with random pretty men, Jimin switched contacts and sent another message.

**[Jimin]: Hoseok-hyung. Do u have a few min?**

He got a reply almost immediately.

**[Hobi]: Yep yep. What’s up, oh princess in the tower?**

Jimin rolled his eyes and ignored the quip about being housebound.

**[Jimin]: I just…am kind of freaking out and I need some advice.**

**[Hobi]: Freaking out? About what?**

**[Hobi]: Are u ok?**

**[Hobi]: Do u need me?**

**[Hobi]: Where are u? Where’s Min Yoongi-ssi?!**

**[Jimin]: Lol calm down, Hyung, I’m not in any danger. I just…I had an episode last night.**

**[Hobi]: …**

**[Hobi]: I see.**

**[Hobi]: And I take it u woke Yoongi-ssi with it?**

**[Jimin]: Yeah. >_<**

**[Hobi]: Ok. So how’d that go? Are u ok?**

**[Jimin] Yeah I’m ok. Yoongi-hyung was really sweet and took care of me. I just…idk what to do now.**

**[Hobi]: I’ll tell u what u r going to do.**

**[Jimin]: ?**

**[Hobi]: U r going to talk to him about it.**

**[Jimin] *sigh***

**[Hobi]: What?**

**[Jimin]: I was afraid you were going to say that.**

**[Hobi]: Jiminie, you know I love u.**

Jimin nodded even though Hoseok couldn’t see him.

**[Jimin]: I know.**

**[Hobi]: U r my favorite person in the whole world.**

**[Jimin]: I know.**

**[Hobi]: But u gotta stop pushing him away.**

**[Jimin]: …**

**[Hobi]: He hasn’t run yet and he’s not going to. But u HAVE to talk to him.**

**[Jimin]: I know.**

**[Hobi]: Have.**

**[Hobi]: To.**

**[Jimin]: You’re right.**

**[Hobi]: Of course I’m right. Duh. Now stop talking to me and go talk to your pretty man-person.**

Jimin laughed again.

**[Jimin]: Ok, Hyung. And thanks. ******

**[Hobi]: Anytime, Jiminie. ******

**Jimin smiled as he set his phone back on the nightstand and stood to head towards the bathroom. He really did not deserve the wonderful people in his life, he knew that. But he hoped they stuck around anyway.**

****

 

* * *

 

Feeling refreshed after a shower and his morning routine, Jimin went upstairs to the guest room he’d been using to put on clean clothes, noticing when he did that Yoongi had stripped his bed of its blankets and remade it with fresh linens. The unending thoughtfulness of his partner never ceased to amaze him. There was no fanfare with Yoongi, he just quietly took care of things without a word. Jimin felt his heart squeeze a little as he thought about how attentive Yoongi had been and he hoped he remembered to tell him how much those things were appreciated.

Jimin came back downstairs in search of Yoongi and coffee, not necessarily in that order, and was mildly surprised to find the main living area empty. He looked towards the office and, seeing the door slightly ajar, decided on coffee before he went to talk to his partner. He stuck a piece of bread in his mouth while he waited on the coffee to brew and set two mugs on the counter as he pulled out cat food for Gramps, who came running at the sound of the food hitting his bowl; all indignities forgiven at the prospect of being fed.

He finished his bread and made sure Gramps had water before filling the mugs with coffee and making his way with them across the large open area towards the few steps that led up to the slightly elevated door of Yoongi’s office. Nudging the door open with his elbow, Jimin stepped into the room and the corners of his mouth lifted at the sight of Yoongi, buried in his computer; his normally slicked back hair lying flat over his forehead, his eyes squinting under furrowed brows at whatever he was typing on the screen.

The smell of coffee seemed to rouse him from his intense concentration and Jimin’s breath caught in his throat as Yoongi’s expression cleared and his face split into a wide smile at the sight of him. Moving over to the desk, Jimin set one of the mugs down at Yoongi’s elbow before going to the other empty chair to sit across the desk from his partner.

“Busy?” Jimin asked as he sipped from his own cup, closing his eyes for a moment as the life-giving fluid filled his senses and started waking up his brain.

“Only a little,” Yoongi replied, enjoying Jimin’s reaction to his first cup of coffee for the day. “But there is a problem here,” he said with a bit of a frown.

Jimin leaned forward, concerned. “What’s wrong, Hyung?”

Yoongi peered at his screen. “Come here and look at this…”

Jimin set his coffee down and came back around the desk to stand next to Yoongi. “What’s the problem?” he asked, scanning the spreadsheet that was pulled up on the screen, trying to understand what Yoongi could possibly be working on that would require his input.

“The problem was,” Yoongi began as he reached up, grabbed Jimin by the arm, and pulled him into his lap. “That you were sitting too far away,” he finished with a gummy grin; wrapping his arms around the younger man. “Now it’s all better.”

Jimin gaped at Yoongi for a second before he burst out laughing. “Are you serious right now?” he chortled. “That is the corniest thing I have ever heard oh my god.”

Yoongi only shrugged and tightened his arms, careful of the healing surgery site. “Whatever, it worked, didn’t it?” he asked smugly.

“Well yeah,” Jimin chuckled, patting the arms that surrounded him, his heart lightening at Yoongi’s playful tone. “But only because I wasn’t expecting that. That was easily the grandpa-est thing you have ever said in my presence.”

Yoongi mock-frowned and pinched Jimin’s thigh. “Don’t call me grandpa.” He said in an offended tone, unable to hide his smile as Jimin batted his hand away.

“I mean you could have just asked me to sit over here.”

“I could have,” Yoongi replied, “but where is the fun in that?”

Jimin shook his head. “You are so weird,” he said affectionately. “And I’m friends with Taehyung so that’s really saying something about how odd you are because Tae is a strange person.”

Yoongi nodded. “It’s true,” he agreed. “But, you know…you picked me, so there’s that.”

Jimin reached up and brushed the bangs out of his partner’s face. “That I did,” he said softly, his expression sobering and his nerves returning. “Hyung…” he began, apprehension building in his throat. “We…we should probably talk about…you know…”

Yoongi’s face lost its playful smile as he inclined his head. “We should, yes.” He loosened his hold on the smaller man. “Why don’t we go talk in the living room where we can sit on the couch? As much as I love having you in my lap, it is a bit distracting, and I am going to want to pay attention.” He nudged Jimin until they could both stand and took his hand to lead him out of the office.

Jimin used his free hand to snag his coffee cup on his way past the desk, knowing he was going to need all the fortification he could get for the conversation they were about to have.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi let go of Jimin’s hand as he settled into one corner of the couch, allowing the other man to dictate how close together they sat. Jimin put his coffee on the table in front of him before arranging himself in the opposite corner, fidgeting slightly as he tried to get comfortable. Yoongi waited patiently, knowing that Jimin would speak when he was ready and not wanting to push the younger man when they were about to talk about something difficult.

Jimin took a breath and brought his eyes around to Yoongi’s. “I don’t know how much of this I can tell,” he said, pulling his eyes away and leaning forward to grab his coffee cup when Yoongi quirked an eyebrow. “Not because I don’t want you to know, just…it’s hard to talk about.”

Yoongi regarded the other man and smiled gently. “Just tell me what you can. Tell me enough so I know what is going on when you wake up with nightmares. Let me know what kind of boundaries I need to be mindful of if and when things get physical between us. You don’t have to tell me all the details unless you want to, but you are going to have to tell me something, Jimine.”

Jimin nodded, eyes focused on the cup that he held in his lap; his gaze remaining there through the beats of silence following Yoongi’s words and the bracing breath that he took before he began speaking.

“I was always comfortable with my sexuality,” he began. “Not…I mean I have always been shy, I guess, but I wasn’t ashamed of what I liked. Of who I liked. And that didn’t go over very well with most people, but I didn’t care. Especially when I transferred to high school here in the city.” He flicked his eyes to Yoongi for a moment. “You know how it is,” he said before returning his gaze to his lap.

Yoongi simply nodded and continued to sit quietly. He’d been waiting for the moment where Jimin opened up and let him in a little, when he trusted Yoongi enough to let him past the sweet but firmly solid outer shell, and he was not about to mess that up by speaking when he didn’t have to. 

“I was interested in the…kink…community right away and initially I thought I would always be a switch,” Jimin shifted in his seat, his eyes still downcast, ears reddening as he spoke, and Yoongi felt his blood start to pull downwards at the blush that was brightening the other man’s cheeks.

 _Stop it._ He admonished himself, willing his wayward body to behave. _This is not the time._

“I had a lot of support while I was figuring things out,” Jimin went on, oblivious to his partner’s discomfort. “The community was really great, teaching me how to be safe, how to make sure others were safe. Letting me learn while I was supervised, and making me feel welcome.” He fidgeted with the silver rings on his slender fingers. “I…I found that I liked to sub the best, but I could never really find the right headspace that I needed for it. I’d heard other full-time subs talk about the bliss of truly submitting, but something always kept me back from it. Until Jisung…” Jimin’s voice trailed off to almost a whisper when he said that name and the heat that had been flooding Yoongi with all the talk about Jimin being submissive turned to ice in his veins; freezing him from the inside out at the quiet terror that bled through the other man’s voice.

Jimin took a sip from his now-cold coffee and continued. “Jisung was wonderful…at first. He was a dance critic and instructor overseas so we had that in common. He had such a commanding presence about him that made you fall in love with him immediately. And I did. I fell for him, or at least the idea of him, overnight, it seems. With him, I could slip completely into subspace and it was…heaven.” Jimin looked down into his lap without saying anything for a while and when he spoke again, his voice was thin and reedy. 

“I didn’t even notice at first. He had me so completely enthralled and….addicted. I was addicted to him. To his touch. To the pleasure he could give to me. To the pain. So wrapped up in how completely he owned me that I didn’t notice.” Jimin was slowly hunching in on himself; his hands pressed around the coffee cup as he rounded his shoulders against the memories he was reliving. Yoongi’s hands balled into fists, tightening against the urge to comfort the man sitting on the other side of the couch. He had to let him speak, though. He needed to know.

“It was just little things that caught my attention. I was practically living with him by that point, and I had just graduated from the academy so I wasn’t in school anymore. I made a decent splash in the amateur dancing circuit, but that didn’t even matter anymore. I wasn’t interested.” Raising his head a little, Jimin looked towards the coffee table with unseeing eyes, his attention fully on the words tumbling out of his mouth. “The doctors figure that was when he started drugging my food.”

Yoongi’s start of surprise was unintentional, but the jerking movement made Jimin flinch. The older man’s stomach was churning, nausea sliding greasily through his torso as Jimin’s voice, having settled into a monotone pitch, continued to recount. 

“I didn’t know that what I was experiencing when I was away from him too long were physical withdrawals from the substances in my food and drink. And by the time I realized what was happening, I couldn’t get out. I was so far into subspace that I couldn’t…I just couldn’t. He kept me there, sometimes chemically, all the time.” Jimin began to tremble as the words came faster. “He would loan me to people, to his friends, as payments or rewards. He would have me drink this…concoction, I don’t know what it was, but after I drank it, any fight I had managed to muster up would just slip away. I would do anything.” He lifted his head upright, face wet with tears, and looked at Yoongi with eyes that swam with shame and a glassy resignation that scared Yoongi more than anything that he’d seen so far. “Anything at all, hyung,” Jimin repeated. 

Yoongi moved to raise his arms towards Jimin, but stopped when his partner shrank away from him. “Please. Don’t…don’t touch me right now. I…I need to get as much of this out as I can,” Jimin said in a voice stretched thin from the effort of speaking his nightmares. With another silent nod, Yoongi withdrew and settled back in his seat, sitting on his hands to keep from reaching out before Jimin was ready.

With another unsteady intake of air, Jimin once again huddled around the mostly empty coffee cup in his hands. “I tried to leave him a couple of times…in those lucid moments between doses of whatever he was giving me. Each time the punishment got worse. I like pain during a scene but he…he was in my head, you know? He would hurt me and then use that nakedness to wrap himself around my mind until I had moments where I was actually convinced that I needed him in order to live.” Jimin’s breath was hitching now as he tried to hold down the sobs in his chest and Yoongi hoped he got to a stopping point soon because he was about to end this conversation either way. 

“The last time I failed to leave him, he poured acid on my leg because I’d foolishly told him that I wanted to try out for a dance company that wasn’t his. So he…he ruined my leg. He said no one was going to want a deformed dancer so I had better be glad he was still willing to sponsor me.” Jimin’s whole body was shaking now. “He had friends there and they…they laughed at my screams. I was tied up when he did that so I couldn’t do anything but…but scream.” His face pale, Jimin finally set the mug back on the table and wrung his hands together in his lap.

“The next time I tried, I got away. My leg had festered and was infected and I knew absolutely that he was going to let me die.” A sob broke loose in Jimin’s throat and Yoongi scooted closer, unnoticed by the other man. “I knew that if I didn’t get out then that no one would ever know what happened to me. That he would spin some tale of me being successful overseas so no one would ask questions. So I ran. I ran and ran and ran and I still almost died.” He wiped a trembling hand over his face.

“I spent so long in the hospital after that. And then even when I got out, the nightmares and pain were so bad that I would use…just to take the edge off. I didn’t have a particular flavor that I preferred; I pretty much just got what I could when I could. And I…I couldn’t sleep. I was going crazy. They had me going to a doctor for that but it didn’t help. The doctor just told me that I was sick and not getting better because I wasn’t trying hard enough. And I tried, hyung.” Jimin said; his ravaged features swinging towards Yoongi, lines of remembered hopelessness pulling the skin tight.

Yoongi was wrapped around him before Jimin could blink, pulling him against his chest as the dam broke and the younger man clung to him and sobbed bitterly. They sat that way for a while, Yoongi rocking his partner gently while Jimin cried and apologized and wept some more. Eventually the tears slowed, but Yoongi continued to hold him, his heart breaking for the man in his arms as the past tore through him.

“You scare me, Hyung,” came Jimin’s muffled voice; the sound diminished by his face being pressed against the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt. “You scare me because I want to give myself to you. Because I can feel myself ready to surrender every time you touch me and I…I haven’t felt like that since…since Jisung and I can’t..”

“Ok, that’s enough,” Yoongi said as he tilted Jimin’s tear streaked face so that they were looking at each other. “Enough, Baby,” he reiterated, using his thumb to wipe the wetness from his partner’s face. “You can tell me more when you are ready, but what you have said so far is more than enough for us to start with. We can get you through this.”

“But,” Jimin began, only to be cut off by Yoongi.  
“No arguing right now. You need a minute. Hell, I need a minute.” the older man said as he reached up to the back of the couch and pulled the blanket that lay draped there off of the furniture and over himself and Jimin. “Just rest now. We’ll take the next steps in this once you feel better, ok?” He asked, kissing Jimin’s temple and settling the man in a sprawl against him so he could wrap more blanket around them both.  
“Just…rest.” He repeated.

Yoongi’s arms tightened around his lover and the ache in his chest intensified. Jimin had been through so much and Yoongi knew there was more to the story than what he’d been told. It didn’t matter, though. Jimin needed rest. And Yoongi was going to stay with him on that couch until he was ready for whatever came next.

 

* * *

 

Jimin lay half on top of Yoongi, legs stretched out behind him on the couch and the side of his face against the other man’s chest. He rested there with his eyes closed, feeling completely drained even though he’d only been awake for a couple of hours. The discussion hadn’t even gone into the deepest parts of Jimin’s trauma and already he felt like he’d run a marathon. The steady thump of Yoongi’s heartbeat under his ear calmed the frayed edges of Jimin’s nerves and he breathed in his partner’s scent through the soft fabric of the shirt that separated them. Fighting the urge to nuzzle closer in, Jimin let the rhythmic rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest soothe him further. Even with the stress of remembering and talking about his past, Jimin had never felt so safe.

“You don’t have to worry, you know,” he said when it became clear that Yoongi was not going to continue the conversation until Jimin was ready. “About Jisung, I mean,” he clarified when he felt Yoongi tense slightly. “He went away forever after that. There was no way to get around it.” Jimin fell silent again as the other man simply tightened his arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

The quiet rolled back between them for a time as they lounged wrapped in each other’s arms. Eventually, it was Yoongi who broke the silence. “I…I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Jiminie-ssi,” he said so softly that Jimin only heard him because his head was resting on the other man’s chest. “I never ever want that.”

The sadness in Yoongi’s voice pinched at Jimin’s already bruised heart and he sat up slightly; propping himself where his hands rested on either side of his partner. “Oh Hyung, no,” he said, his gaze searching the older man’s eyes and seeing the regret in them. “I’m only scared of my feelings for you, because they were so strong so quickly,” he explained. “You don’t make me afraid, Hyung.” Jimin reached up with one hand and smoothed the furrows of Yoongi’s brow. “I have never felt safer with anyone than I do with you right now.” 

He settled back down onto his partner’s chest. “It’s just going to take…time, I guess. Time to undo the damage. Time to try to…fix me.” Jimin buried his face in Yoongi’s chest on the last phrase, shame at how much work he was going to be tinging his ears pink.

Yoongi’s hands went to Jimin’s head and began petting his hair; the edges of his thumbs brushing the tops of smaller man’s ears where the proof of his embarrassment burned.

“I don’t want to fix you, Jiminie,” Yoongi admonished gently. “I am very much into the person you are, and that includes the scars from your past. I do want to help you get past the debilitating aspects of those scars if I can, though,” he said, nuzzling his nose into the smaller man’s hair. “But you should never think of yourself as a burden,” he went on, wrapping both arms back around Jimin. “Your struggles are my privilege; I want to be there for you through them. I want you to rely on me, to trust me. To know that I trust you. You can be a submissive again, if that’s what you want. And I know that once you can get to that space without fear of being abused, your surrender will be the sweetest thing that has ever been given.”

Jimin was still for a moment as he let Yoongi’s words sink into him and his ears burned for a different reason as he realized what they meant. Keeping his face buried in the other man’s shirt he spoke into the hush of the room again.  
“Tomatoes,” he said, flush of his ears bleeding down to the nape of his neck.

“What?” Yoongi questioned, confused.

“Tomatoes,” Jimin repeated. “It’s my…um… safeword.”

Yoongi chuckled and hugged Jimin tighter to his chest, the rumble of his laughter vibrating against his partner’s hidden face. “Noted.” He said good-naturedly. “Tomatoes.”

 

* * *

 

The sun glinted off signs posted on the outside of the parking deck that serviced the Research and Development wing of the Physalign Pharmaceutical complex , and Yoongi navigated his way through the maze of reserved spaces along the underground levels until he found a spot for his car. He got out and moved towards the elevators at the far end of the level. Once inside, he pushed the button for the R&D department and glanced through the papers he carried in a manila folder. 

Hopefully he would be able to find out more about the substance that had been used to trigger Jimin and Namjoon’s allergic attacks on the night of the benefit. The police lab had only broken down the components of the shellfish extract enough to determine the cause of the victim’s reactions, but had not gotten back to determining more about the infusion itself. Yoongi knew that the documents he was carrying were technically still considered evidence, but a phone call to a friend who owed him a favor had gotten copies of the chemical compound readouts into his hands and he now found himself exiting the elevator into the lobby of the research and development center for the largest pharmaceutical company in the city. Stopping at the security desk to pick up the VIP guest pass that was always reserved for him, Yoongi passed through the turnstile and went to the next bank of elevators that would take him to the specific research wing that he needed.

The lift car came smoothly to a halt on the fifth floor and the doors whispered open to reveal a stark white hallway that was tiled, rather than carpeted, in the same pristine color as the paint on the walls and ceiling. Yoongi stepped from the comparatively lush elevator into the hall and shook his head slightly against the oddly disorienting feeling that he always got when stepping onto this floor; the all-white interior making it difficult to judge distance. He strode purposefully down the passageway until he stopped in front of a plain white door in the middle of the unadorned wall. Pressing his visitor’s pass against the small sensor above the handle, Yoongi unlocked the door and stepped into another uniformly white room containing two doors on opposite walls with a desk between them that was occupied by a petite woman in a lab coat who was intently typing on the computer in front of her. Her eyes came up to see who had just entered the space and she smiled genuinely, if distractedly, when she saw it was Yoongi.

“CEO Min, how nice to see you again,” she said pleasantly as she continued to enter data into her machine. 

Yoongi returned the smile. “And you as well,” he responded. “Is Dr. Choi available? I believe he is expecting me today.”  
Before the woman could answer him, the door on the right-hand wall opened with a hiss of released pressure and a man in a sterile-environment jumpsuit stepped into the room, pulling a half-mask down from his face.

“Perfect timing,” the man said, the corners of his mouth turning up with honest friendliness. “I was hoping I wouldn’t keep you waiting too long.” He strode across to the door on the opposite wall and pushed up a panel next to the doorframe to reveal a small keypad. Punching in a code, he opened the door, motioning with his head for Yoongi to follow him.

Yoongi went through the door after the other man and closed it behind him. The office was as bare as the rest of the floor, with filing cabinets, a desk, and a bin for used sterile suits all in that same uniform gleaming white. The desk itself was a minefield of stacks of papers with charts and graphs on them, complicated readouts the only vivid splashes of color in the stark décor of the room. Without preamble, Yoong held out the file he’d brought with him.

“I managed to get the data printouts, but that was the best I could do. It’s all mumbo jumbo to me, to be perfectly honest.” Yoongi said as Dr. Choi shrugged out of the arms of his jumpsuit and let it dangle at his waist while he adjusted his tie and took the thick folder from him. His friend flipped through the first few pages, nodding absently as he looked at the information.

“This is a good place to start, though. I have someone here who can dig pretty deep with this information that I can get on it right away. And don’t worry,” he added hastily at Yoongi’s mildly alarmed expression. “He is very discreet.” He clapped Yoongi on the shoulder and set the file down to finish pulling the jumpsuit off; his suit pants and dress shirt somehow unwrinkled in spite of having been meshed into the outerwear. “I can get back to you in a few days with an update, if that is alright.”

Yoongi nodded as he moved back to the door. “I really appreciate this, Yongjae-ssi. I’ll owe you one.”

Dr. Choi waived him away with a flick of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I am happy to help. How are your friends doing, anyway? I heard CEO Park is staying with you for the time being.”

Pausing with his hand on the door Yoongi smiled. “They are both doing well. Professor Kim was healed in no time, and CEO Park is recovering nicely. And he is living with me right now, yes.”

His friend’s smile was wide as he regarded him. “Well that’s wonderful. I’m sorry for what happened, but this is the happiest I have seen you look in a long time, Yoongi-ssi. If it’s because of CEO Park, then I will have to thank him when I meet him.”

Yoongi chuckled as he pulled the office door open. “You’ll have to come for dinner and bring your wife sometime. Thanks again for your help, I’ll talk to you in a few days,” he said as he left the office. With a nod and a friendly wave to the woman at the desk he exited the department through the nondescript door and got back into the relative luxury of the elevator.

Once on the main floor, he went back through the turnstiles and returned his passcard to the security desk. He was heading towards the elevators leading to the parking garage when he heard his name.

“Yoongi-ssi?”

Turning, he saw Shin Suran coming towards him, a smile on her face. She was dressed in a smart maroon suit with black and maroon accented high-heels that clicked on the tiled floor of the lobby as she came towards him, carrying a sleek black briefcase. “What a surprise to see you here,” she said pleasantly, falling in step with him as he continued going towards the elevators.

“Came to see Dr. Choi for a few minutes. It’s been too long since we have seen each other.” He eyed her briefcase and unusually muted outfit. “Had a grant meeting with the development team, huh?”

She nodded and tugged at her suit coat. “What gave it away?” she asked with a grin. “The oddly normal and boring outfit I am sporting today? They never take me seriously unless I am dressed like a humorless ajumma.” She reached out and pressed the elevator call button and turned to regard her friend.

“How are things going with you? I hear you have taken to working from home again more often than not.”

Yoongi nodded and gestured for her to move ahead of him as the elevator doors opened. Entering the lift car, he pushed the button for the sublevel where he was parked, looking at Suran to wordlessly ask which level she was going to. 

“I’m the one before yours,” she said.

Yoongi pressed the button for her stop and leaned back against the wall opposite the doors. “You know I always prefer to work from home whenever possible,” he said in response to her earlier statement. “It’s hard to write with constant interruptions. I have Jimin-ssi at home right now, but he is pretty good about leaving me alone while I am working.”

Suran stiffened for a moment before relaxing back into her usual nonchalant stance. It happened so quickly that if Yoongi hadn’t known her as well as he did, he might not have caught it. While he was trying to figure out why she’d react like that, Suran spoke.

“How…how is he doing? He and Professor Kim were the ones who got sick that night, right?” she asked, her voice coated with a layer of something that Yoongi couldn’t place. He eyed her for a moment. 

“They are both doing well,” he answered, “although Jimin has required the most recovery of the two.”

Suran inclined her head in acknowledgement. “And CEO Park. Is he…is he your-”

“My boyfriend?” Yoongi interrupted her. “Yes he is.” He searched her face for a moment. “Are you ok, Suran-ssi?”

She returned his gaze before pasting a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course!” she said too cheerfully. “I’m happy for you two,” she finished with false brightness. “And I’m glad they are both doing better.” 

That much, at least, seemed sincere.

The elevator slowed and the doors slid open with a soft chime. “Well, this is me,” she motioned towards the parking level. “I hope to see you soon, Yoongi-ssi. Don’t be a stranger.” She leaned over to give him a quick hug before exiting the elevator.

Yoongi watched her walk through the parking level until the door closed and the elevator continued down. Shaking his head at the oddness of his friend, he pulled out his phone to let Jimin know he was on his way home.


	8. Chapter 8

Jimin stretched for the millionth time and pushed away from his desk. He had been working for most of the day, but he’d managed to get through all of the paperwork that Tandem required, and was looking forward to not thinking about anything business related for at least a few hours. Standing from his chair, he stretched once more, reveling in the lessened discomfort and enjoying the increased range of movement. 

The afternoon sun slanted through the partially open blinds, casting Yoongi’s office into a muted yellow glow that looked as warm as it felt. Jimin meandered around the room, looking at the shelves and shelves of books that occupied every available space of the walls from floor to ceiling. Yoongi’s genuine appreciation of books was one of the things that made Jimin weak in the knees. 

Jimin loved to read. He especially loved to read poetry. He had vague memories of Yoongi reading his favorite poet to him while he was in the hospital, but he couldn’t be sure if that was part of a dream he had while he was unconscious or not. Running his hands along the bindings of the books closest to him, Jimin found the very book he’d just been thinking about. In fact, he noticed when he took it off the shelf and thumbed through it, this was his copy. His book had been retrieved and placed in Yoongi’s office where it wouldn’t get lost. 

He clutched the book to his chest, oddly touched by such a seemingly simple yet thoughtful gesture, and drug Yoongi’s office chair into the stripes of light that poured in from the window. Yoongi had called not long ago to say he was on his way home.

Home.

It amazed Jimin how in such a short time, this apartment had come to feel just as much his as the house he couldn’t yet go back to.

He shook his head at his own sentimentality and sighed contentedly as he settled in to read.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi opened his front door slowly, poking his head around it to scope the area for secret attack cats. When no sign of Gramps could be seen, he came fully into the entryway, closing the door behind himself and sitting on the bench to pull off his shoes and put on his slides. He was happy to be home. 

The apartment was quiet, the small click of the heater turning on was the only sound that could be heard and he wondered where his partner was. Walking into the living area he set his keys on the counter and then noticed that the door to his office was ajar. He remembered that Jimin had been planning to get some work done while he was out running errands, so he was probably still holed up at his desk trying to get through the papers that had piled up in his absence.

He walked across the living area and up the few steps to his office door, pushing it open and pausing for a moment to admire the view. Jimin sat in Yoongi’s chair, basking in the warm sun that peeked through the blinds. A book was open in his lap, but his eyes were closed and his head rested on the back of the chair; his mouth open a little as he breathed in a steady rhythm.

Jimin was sound asleep.

Yoongi’s heart constricted at the sight of his lover resting so peacefully and he moved through the room with silent steps until he was standing over him. Leaning over slowly, he gently pulled the book out from under Jimin’s hands and set it on the desk before turning back to prop his hands on the arms of the chair, admiring his lover’s face. He lowered his head to Jimin’s and lightly brushed his mouth against his partner’s, inhaling the sun-warmed scent of him as he pulled away.

Jimin’s eyes fluttered open and gazed unfocused at Yoongi for a moment before clearing with recognition. He smiled sweetly, a sleepy smile that went all the way to his eyes. “Annyeong,” he said huskily, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Annyeong,” Yoongi replied softly, leaning back down to press his lips to Jimin’s again.

Jimin sighed into the contact and the warmth of his breath against Yoongi’s mouth had the older man deepening the kiss. Without coaxing, Jimin opened his mouth to Yoongi, his tongue darting out to play with the edges of his lips. He sat up fully, pressing his face up, offering himself to Yoongi.

Growling with a rumble that vibrated in his chest, Yoongi hauled him up out of the chair to stand against him, his lips demanding as he fed at Jimin’s mouth. The younger man melted into Yoongi’s embrace, molding their bodies together as the kiss shifted from sweet to heated. Fire raced through Yoongi’s veins, settling low in his belly, and he felt himself swell at the feel of Jimin’s arousal pressed to his thigh - Yoongi had never been with someone who was so responsive. Without tearing his lips away from Jimin’s, he began unbuttoning the other man’s shirt. 

“Have to…touch you…” Yoongi panted into Jimin’s mouth. “Need to feel you against my hands.” He finished unbuttoning Jimin’s shirt and slid his hands around the other man’s torso, pressing Jimin to him as he sank his teeth into that sinful bottom lip. Need gripped Yoongi like a vise at the whimpering sounds his lover made, his own arousal straining painfully against his pants and his heartbeat pounding through his skull.

Reaching his hands up, Yoongi ran them under the collar of Jimin’s open shirt and pushed the fabric off of his shoulders and down to his elbows, fisting a hand in the middle of the shirt to draw Jimin’s arms sharply behind him, binding him there. The younger man’s breath slammed out of him on a gasp, his eyes fluttering closed as Yoongi bit his way down Jimin’s neck and shoulder, twisting the handful of shirt with a jerk to pull the other man’s arms closer together behind him. The movement forced Jimin’s chest to arch outward and Yoongi wedged his leg between his lover’s thighs, putting pressure against his erection.

Jimin’s eyes flew open at the contact and a soft grunt escaped him, prompting Yoongi to return his hungry mouth to those lips, eating the cries that were seeping from his partner.

“Please…Hyung…” Jimin gasped in a stuttered plea that was becoming familiar as he writhed against Yoongi’s leg. “I need….I….” his eyes closed again and his head fell back on a sigh as Yoongi sucked and nibbled his way down the column of his throat.

“What, Baby,” Yoongi whispered against Jimin’s skin. “You know you have to tell me. What do you need?”

Jimin’s breath hitched as Yoongi bit down on the joining of his neck and collarbone, easing the sharp pinch of his teeth with soft movements of his tongue and gentle suction over what would surely be a bite mark later. 

“I need...” Jimin tried again as his whole body shuddered against the onslaught of sensation. “I need to…to taste you, Hyung. Please let me taste you.”

Yoongi tore his himself from the intoxicating flavor of Jimin’s skin and looked at his partner. “You want to taste me?” he confirmed.

Jimin nodded wordlessly, his tongue darting out to moisten his bruised lips and Yoongi was swamped with a heady possessiveness at the sight of how far gone his lover was. He pressed himself impossibly closer to Jimin and nuzzled the younger man’s nose with his own as his arms wrapped around to tie the excess shirt material in a knot, securing Jimin’s arms where they were. 

“The knot will come out if you pull on it firmly, ok?” he said in a whisper. 

Jimin just smiled and inclined his head, reaching out with his tongue to lick Yoongi’s bottom lip before wriggling enough to get some breathing room and sinking to his knees.

The image of Jimin on his knees looking up at him with trust and desire, color riding high on his cheeks, pupils blown wide with lust until they almost eclipsed his irises, was one that Yoongi knew would stay in his mind forever, tucked away like a treasure that was just for him – one he could take out and look at whenever he wanted. 

Yoongi must have stood staring at Jimin for too long because the younger man leaned forward and nuzzled the straining line of Yoongi’s erection through his dress pants, the thin fitted material doing nothing to disguise his arousal. Yoongi shuddered at the friction and quickly reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle and the buttoned pants underneath with shaky hands. Jimin continued to run his nose and lips up and down the length of Yoongi’s bulge, the heat of his panting breaths filtering through the fabric as his lover tried to get the garment undone around him.

Concentrating as much as he could to try and function past the sensation of Jimin burrowing his face against him, Yoongi finally got the front of his pants open, pulling them and the top of his boxer briefs down his thighs until his cock sprang free, the weight of it making it hang long and thick in front of Jimin. 

He went to grip himself but Jimin was there first, leaning forward again to envelop the head of Yoongi’s length and slowly, oh so slowly, slide him into the wet heat of his mouth. Jimin’s kiss bruised lips stretched unbelievably wide around his partner’s girth, his tongue catching the precum that beaded at the tip before sliding down the head and pressing against the underside of the shaft that he was swallowing inch by inch.

Yoongi’s eyes rolled closed and his head fell back on a low groan as his hands tunneled into Jimin’s hair, fisting there as his lover took him in. He’d never been with someone who could take all of him, his size usually giving any potential partners pause, but Jimin pulled Yoongi’s cock into his mouth bit by bit until his lips eventually sealed around the root of him, his throat convulsing around the deep penetration as he tried to breathe, and Yoongi had to fight not to let his knees buckle. 

_Holy shit_ , he thought as he shook under his lover’s ministrations, _he has no gag reflex either…oh gods…._

He felt his balls draw up as a tingling sensation started at his spine, and he knew that he would come soon if he didn’t stop for a moment. Using the fistfuls of hair in his hands, he pulled Jimin off of him and looked down at his lover. Jimin was straining against the pressure of Yoongi’s hold, licking his swollen lips and trying to get back to the other man’s cock. Yoongi chuckled low in his chest, the sound languorous and full of sex and promises, as he let go of Jimin with one hand and leaned down to kiss his lust slackened mouth thoroughly before straightening and wrapping the free hand around himself, guiding the tip of his length to the edges of Jimin’s lips.

“I will be setting the pace here, Jimin,” Yoongi ground out in a rasping voice that sounded like velvet over gravel. “Your mouth is mine, and I am going to use it however I like. Understand?” He slackened his hold in Jimin’s hair enough for the other man to nod his agreement. “There’s a good man. And don’t think I don’t see you squirming around down there. You will not come until I give you permission. I don’t care how turned on you are, you will not come. Understand?” he demanded. Jimin shivered violently at Yoongi’s instructions and with a heaving breath, nodded again. 

“Perfect,” Yoongi said and slid his cock back between his lover’s lips, his own breath catching at the feel of Jimin’s heat around him. Tangling the other hand back into the smaller man’s hair he pulled him down his length to the base, holding him there until tears streamed out of Jimin’s eyes and saliva leaked from the corners of his distended mouth. Jimin’s groan of pure submission vibrated down Yoongi’s cock, making it swell impossibly larger and he pulled the man back to just the head of his shaft, allowing him a chance to breathe, but still keeping himself partially sheathed. Jimin gasped for air around Yoongi, saliva and precum running down his chin as he tried to swallow with his mouth full. 

Yoongi gave his lover a moment to recover before holding Jimin’s head still and pushing his own hips forward, sinking back into the wet tightness. He tethered Jimin there, fists clenched tight in his partner’s hair as he fucked his mouth, hips moving back and forth impossibly slowly, dragging gulping murmurs from the man on his knees. 

The picture that Jimin made had Yoongi’s breath coming in labored, erratic gasps. The man’s arms were restrained and his mouth was on him; Jimin was looking up at him, his eyes glazed with passion, threatening to shatter all control. Yoongi picked up speed, pushing his hips faster into Jimin’s face, his balls drawing up again as he felt himself slamming into the back of the other man’s soft throat. This time, he didn’t fight the weighty sensation at the base of his spine, and tortured moans ripped from him as his thrusts started to lose rhythm. With a growl that echoed around them, Yoongi threw his head back, thrust himself to the hilt in Jimin’s mouth, and came harder than he ever had in his life, pulse after pulse of his own heat pouring down his lover’s throat. 

Fighting back the impulse to melt into the floor at the intensity of what he had just experienced, Yoongi instead hauled Jimin up off his knees, kissing him fiercely and reveling in his own flavor on the other man’s tongue. Pulling back he wiped Jimin’s face with his shirt and wrapped his arms around his trembling partner as Jimin wriggled in his hold, tension bunching his muscles at the arousal that still rode him. The younger man bit his puffy bottom lip hard and Yoongi held back a smile as he watched his boyfriend try very hard not to beg.

“That was amazing,” Yoongi said gently. “Are you ok?”

“Y…yes…” Jimin breathed out, his words catching and his body shuddering.

Yoongi pulled him closer and put his mouth right next to the other man’s ear. “Did you come?” he asked in a low tone that had Jimin inhaling sharply.

“N..no, Hy-Hyung,” Jimin stammered out in a strangled voice. “You told me n-not to…”

“Ohhhhh good man,” Yoongi practically purred, rubbing his mouth back and forth over Jimin’s ear. “Would you like to come?”

“Oh gods y-yes…”Jimin replied immediately. “Please, yes.”

Yoongi laughed low and rough. “I think I might be able to help with that.”

Stepping back from him, he moved around behind Jimin and untied the shirt that had bound him, taking a moment to rub circulation back into his arms and shoulders. Looking behind himself to judge distance, he backed up, pulling his lover with him until Yoongi sat in his office chair. Tucking himself back into his pants, he reached for Jimin and guided him to sit in his lap - facing away from him, legs spread wide, ass pressed to Yoongi’s groin and his back pressed to Yoongi’s chest.

He ran his hands up the sides of Jimin’s torso, skipping the healing but still bandaged wound area, and lifting his arms until Yoongi had the other man’s hands clasped behind his neck before running his own hands back down Jimin’s arms and body. Reaching around for the button fly of his lover’s pants, Yoongi paused to grip Jimin’s erection through his jeans breathing into his ear again as he spoke. 

“You still aren’t going to come until I allow it, are you?”

“N-no, Sir,” Jimin managed, writhing against Yoongi until the older man felt himself stir again.

“You have no idea what those words do to me when they come out of your mouth,” Yoongi whispered, licking the top of Jimin’s ear and pulling him out of his pants and underwear so that his cock lay up against his stomach.

Yoongi reached a hand up to turn Jimin’s face to his and he kissed the other man like he needed him more than air. After a long moment, Yoongi pulled Jimin’s head back against his shoulder and moved his hands to run them up and down his partner’s chest and abs, fingers stopping just shy of the cock that was weeping for his touch. Yoongi dipped his fingertips in the precum dripping from Jimin’s erection and brought the offering up to the younger man’s mouth. Jimin obediently parted his lips and sucked Yoongi’s fingers clean.

“Fuck, Baby, you are going to be the death of me,” Yoongi hissed out between clenched teeth, pulling his fingers out of Jimin’s mouth and reaching down to run the wet digits lightly up the smaller man’s cock from root to tip.

Jimin’s hips bucked and a low keening moan pushed out of him. Yoongi gripped Jimin’s shaft fully and, using more of the precum as lubricant, began moving his hand up and down his lover’s length. Jimin’s breathing was ragged and Yoongi could feel the tightness of his partner’s balls as his entire body shook with the effort not to come.

Yoongi’s mouth was back at Jimin’s ear as the younger man pushed back against him and writhed with total abandon under his touch.

“You are so beautiful on display like this,” Yoongi whispered huskily as Jimin’s head rolled back and forth on his shoulder, all coherent thoughts clearly inaccessible as Jimin gave himself over to the sensation. Yoongi wriggled a little under the other man until Jimin’s ass cradled Yoongi’s swelling erection through their pants.

“I can feel you trying not to come. You are doing so well, Baby. I will let you come soon, don’t worry,” he promised as he brought his other hand up to tease Jimin’s nipple, the hand on his lover’s cock increasing pressure as he caressed the length of it. 

Beyond words, Jimin just groaned low and long as his entire body shook from the pleasure of Yoongi’s hands.

Precum was running steadily now, coating Jimin’s cock as Yoongi jerked him faster and Jimin’s cries tore from his swollen mouth, need painting his cheeks crimson and tears welling again as the force of his feelings threatened to overwhelm him. 

“Do you want to come?” Yoongi asked, his own breath quickening as Jimin twisted against him. Unable to respond verbally, Jimin bit his lip again and nodded as his legs shook and Yoongi’s hand flew over his cock.

Taking his hand from the other man’s nipple, he wrapped both hands around Jimin’s cock and squeezed in a rhythm, running his thumb over the slit at the top of the head.

“Then come, Baby,” Yoongi snarled in Jimin’s ear. “Come right now,” he commanded as he dipped his head to clamp his teeth down on his lover’s shoulder.

Jimin opened his mouth in a loud cry as his back arched rigidly and he came violently, thick ropes shooting from his cock to cover his torso as Yoongi’s hands milked every drop from him. Finally, he collapsed back against the larger man, gasping for air as his muscles went lax. Yoongi gently kissed where he had bitten before bringing his head up to nuzzle Jimin’s ear.

“Are you doing ok?” he asked softly after a few minutes. “Can you stand?”

Jimin chuckled shakily. “I am more than ok,” he said on a sigh. “Though I don’t know about standing yet.”

Yoongi laughed with him. “Well, just lift up a little and let me get out from under you, then.”

Jimin shifted and Yoongi slid out from under him, leaving Jimin alone in the big office chair. Yoongi’s gaze drank in sight of his boyfriend and felt lust pierce him again; Jimin looked well and truly fucked. Yoongi lifted his hand and licked it clean of the mess that Jimin had made on it, making sure the other man was watching. Then he leaned over his lover again and kissed him deeply, feeding Jimin his own seed in a tangle of tongues that had the other man whimpering again and Yoongi getting dizzy.

He pulled back abruptly. “Ok enough of that,” he said with amusement. “We need to get you cleaned up the rest of the way, and then I don’t know about you, but I need to eat.” Yoongi picked up his partner’s shirt and tossed it to him.

Jimin caught it and began using it to clean off the rest of the rapidly congealing semen on his torso, standing tentatively as if unsure how reliable his limbs were yet. “You want to start dinner while I shower and change?”

Yoongi nodded and wrapped his hand around the back of Jimin’s neck to pull him in for another kiss. “That sounds good,” he said. “I’m going to get started on that now before I follow you to the shower,” he threatened with a satisfied grin before detaching himself from his lover and heading to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

Jimin and Yoongi stood on chairs in the middle of the living area draped in half-finished suit coats as Taehyung circled each of them with a critical eye; a cluster of pins from the cushion attached to his wrist in one hand and a measuring tape in the other. Jimin was holding back a grin as he watched his boyfriend try not to fidget. Yoongi had no problem being still, he spent hours bent over paperwork or sitting quietly with his thoughts, but he hated being fussed over above all things. A subtle shift of Yoongi’s weight from one hip to the other had Taehyung’s head whipping around.

“Yoongi-ssi, if you don’t stand still I am not going to be responsible for how many pins get stuck in you,” Tae threatened.

Yoongi quirked an eyebrow at Jimin who choked back a laugh and nodded solemnly. “Best not to test him, Hyung. I have scars on my ass from the last time I didn’t take his pins seriously.”

“I have scars on my ass from when I _have_ taken his pins seriously,” Hoseok chimed in from where he sat on the couch, surrounded by piles of swatches and bolts of fabric, absently leafing through the latest fashion magazine to feature Taehyung’s collection. “So maybe you should just let the man fidget as needed since he’s going to get stuck anyway.”

Yoongi’s other eyebrow shot up to meet the one that was already climbing to his hairline and he eyed the small grouping of sharp implements in Tae’s hand with distrust. “I thought Jungkook was supposed to be doing this fitting...” he said tentatively.

An undignified snort came from Taehyung as he adjusted the pins in Jimin’s sleeve cuff. “Of course. But you know the big bad rock star has ‘things to do’ that he couldn’t seem to get out of.” he said shortly. “I’m sure ‘Things’ is a lovely girl and not at all just after his money or his star status or his pretty face or everything he’s packing in those leather pants and why does he wear them so tight anyway...” he mumbled as he jabbed the last couple of pins into Jimin’s suit rather more forcefully than seemed necessary to Jimin. He saw Hoseok look up and catch Yoongi’s confused expression before shaking his head slightly and signaling to let it go. 

Visibly bracing himself for Death By Pinning, Yoongi breathed an audible sigh of relief when Tae walked around him, made one small adjustment, and declared it a good fit. Being told he could get down from the chair and take the jacket off seemed to improve his mood even further and Jimin chuckled a little as he got down from his own chair and was divested of his jacket.

The building intercom buzzed and Yoongi turned immediately to get it, escaping the sudden grimness that had fallen over the normally cheerful Taehyung, while Jimin and Hoseok helped their friend hang up the half finished garments and put them on the portable rack that he’d brought with him. 

“Jiminie, there is a package for us at the front desk. I’m going to go get it and be right back.” Yoongi called from the foyer. “Do any of you want coffee from the corner cafe while I am down there?”

The three of them shouted their drink orders to him and Jimin’s heart warmed a little at what was obviously Yoongi’s attempt to give them space to talk to Taehyung. The electronic click of the door locking behind Yoongi was the only sound as the three friends worked in silence to pack up the fabric.

After a few moments, Hoseok settled back on the now clear couch and eyed Taehyung. “Ok, Tae...spill,” he said abruptly. 

“Spill about what?” Tae said as he put the lids on his loose fabric tubs.

“Come on, man,” Hoseok replied, adjusting his sitting position so that he could look at Taehyung head on. “That was a really visceral reaction to the mention of Jungkook’s name. It would be weird if you were strangers, but it’s really weird considering you are besties. What’s going on?”

Taehyung shrugged and busied himself organizing the stacks of fabric samples in the last tub. “Nothing is going on. I’m allowed to be a little irritated that he couldn’t make the fitting.” He said grumpily. “I know it’s stupid; he’s busy now and doesn’t have as much time between schedules as he used to. It shouldn’t bother me, but sometimes it does. I’m busy too, but I always try to make time for him.”

Jimin crouched down on the other side of the fabric tub from Taehyung and reached down to still the younger man’s fidgeting hands. “TaeTae look at me,” he commanded softly, startled to see the hurt in his friend’s eyes when he raised them. “Come on, buddy. How long have we known each other now? You aren’t as upset about the fact that he isn’t with us so much as you are about the idea that he might be with someone else. Am I right?”

Taehyung nodded and looked away. “I hate that I feel this way. I realize how irrational it is...” he trailed off as he pulled his hands away from Jimin’s and picked up the lid for the last tub. 

Hoseok started stacking the tubs on the small hand-dolly that Tae had hauled them in on. “I know I have asked you this before, but have you talked to Kookie about how you feel?”

Taehyung slammed the lid onto the fabric tub. “And what the fuck good would that do?” he snapped angrily. “What exactly would I say? ‘Oh hey, Kookie, I know we’ve been friends forever and whatnot, but I would really like it if you would stop boinking everyone who isn’t me. I know I have slept with the entire fashion industry but I have only really ever wanted you since high-school and I would give everything up if for just five minutes you would actually fucking see me.’ I’ll just say that. I’m sure that will go great,” he finished bitterly as he placed the last tub on the stack and secured it with a bungee cord.

Hoseok grabbed Taehyung by the arm and spun him around roughly, pulling him into a fierce embrace. “Stop. Just stop it. Stop beating yourself up over this, you can’t help who you love, man, but you can help how you handle it.” 

Jimin moved to Taehyung and wrapped his arms around him from behind, hugging Hoseok in the process. The two of them stood in the middle of the living room holding Taehyung between them while the younger man quietly cried out his frustration. 

Jimin rested the side of his face between Taehyung’s shoulder blades. “You have to figure something out soon, though. You can’t keep substituting people in your bed for who you really want to be there, you know? You have to find a way to talk to him or start moving on. It’s been years, Tae.”

Jimin felt his friend’s shoulders sag as he nodded against Hoseok.

“I know,” Taehyung sniffed as he pulled out of the other men’s arms and wiped his face on his sleeve. “I know I do and that’s part of why I am so bothered lately, I guess.”

He smiled sheepishly as he adjusted his clothes and slung his messenger bag over one shoulder. “Sorry I had a moment there.”

Hoseok patted him on the back. “No worries, just don’t try to keep it all bottled up like some people,” he said as he glared at Jimin.

Jimin rolled his eyes at Hoseok and pulled Taehyung into another brief hug. “He’s an ass, but he’s right. Talk to us when it gets bad, ok?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Tae snorted. “But I will try. I am going to take this stuff and go, I think. Tell Yoongi-hyung that I’m sorry I skipped out on the coffee.”

“I don’t know why you two feel the need to gang up on me but whatever,” Jimin said airily. “And don’t worry about Yoongi-hyung, he’ll understand. Just take care of you” he finished, giving Hoseok a meaningful look as he turned away from Tae.

The older man nodded imperceptibly and grabbed the wheeled portable rack with the pinned clothes hanging from them. “I need to head out too so I’ll help you take your stuff down,” he said nonchalantly, hugging Jimin with one arm as he passed him. Jimin whispered a thank you into his ear before moving to open the door for his friends.

 

* * *

 

Yoongi stepped onto the elevator that would take him back to his penthouse and pressed the End Call icon on his phone screen before entering the code that would take him home. He stared at the letter in his hand blankly as he tried to get his breathing under control. Nausea twisted in a slimy ball through his stomach and he fought the urge to throw up right there.

 _We’re not doing this today. Pull yourself together or you are going to freak Jimin out_ , he admonished himself. He pushed the elevator stop button and stood in the middle of the car with his hands on his hips taking deep breaths and going over the mental exercises that he hadn’t needed in years. When he had sufficiently calmed down enough that he was confident he wouldn’t be losing the contents of his stomach, he started the elevator again.

Once arriving at his floor he stepped out of the elevator and into the small hallway in front of his door. Taking one more bolstering breath, he keyed in the door code and went inside. Stopping to kick out of his shoes and put on his slides, Yoongi saw Jimin alone in the living area moving the coffee table back to the middle of the room from where it had been shoved aside for the fitting and smiled at him. 

“Where are Hobi and Tae?” he asked as he set his phone on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. “Oh shit,” he said as he slowly closed the door back. “I completely forgot that I was supposed to get coffee, I’m sorry.”

Jimin laughed as he walked to the bar and perched on a stool. “It’s ok, they had to leave anyway. Where is the package that was delivered?” he asked, looking around the counter area.

Yoongi turned back to the fridge and opened it again, taking out a bottle of tea. “It wasn’t a package, it was a certified letter that had to be signed for,” he said, still facing the fridge as he cracked the seal on the bottle and took a long drink. He didn’t hear Jimin get down from the stool or walk around the bar but suddenly there were small strong hands running up his back and turning him around when they got to his shoulders. Yoongi shifted to face his lover and was met with soft brown eyes that were full of concern.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked gently. “Did something happen?”

Yoongi sighed and chuckled a little in spite of his anxiety. “How do you always know? Working from home means I get certified mail all the time.”

JImin smiled a sweet smile that turned his lovely eyes into little crescent moons. “Because you are a shit liar, Hyung, even with body language. And because your work related mail rarely puts these shadows in your eyes,” he said as he cupped Yoongi’s face with one hand, “or this tension in your shoulders.” he finished, moving his hand from Yoongi’s face to run it down his arm and twine their fingers together. “Now, what happened?” he said, the smile falling as his face turned serious.

Yoongi handed him the letter as he pulled his hand from Jimin’s and took his tea to the living area. He sat on the couch and watched his lover read the document with a furrowed brow. 

“Oh my gods, Hyung, this is terrible. Your dad and uncle were in a car accident? Why didn’t anyone call you?” Jimin moved towards Yoongi, set the letter on the coffee table and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders as he straddled his lap and sat facing him. “Are you ok?” he asked, eyes searching Yoongi’s with worry. 

Yoongi draped his arms along Jimin’s thighs and he leaned forward to rest his head against his partner’s torso. The knots in his stomach eased a little as Jimin wrapped his arms more firmly around Yoongi’s neck and head and just held him.

“What does the letter mean for you, Hyung? I read it, but I’m not sure how your family’s connections are set up so I need to know what our next steps are.” Jimin said calmly  
Yoongi pulled back and looked at the man in his lap. 

_Our. What ‘our’ next steps are._ He thought as he searched his boyfriend’s face. _He is ready to help with anything I need even though he doesn’t know what it entails. I do not deserve this man._

Leaning back against the couch Yoongi pulled Jimin’s hands from around his neck and into their laps where he twined their fingers together. “My mother is my father’s power of attorney because they are married. But my uncle is not married and there is no next of kin besides my father who can make decisions for him. My uncle has it specifically set to where my mother can _not_ have power of attorney over him so, with my father unconscious in the ICU, it's between me and my brother.” He sighed and let his head drop back on the top of the couch back so that he was staring at the ceiling. 

“My brother is out of the country with work, and is trying to get home as soon as possible, but it will take some time.” he continued. “I called him right after I called Mom. She sounds so frazzled. She doesn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t really get any more details from her. She kept saying that she didn’t call because she didn’t want to worry me.” Yoongi raised his head back up to look at Jimin, who had been sitting there silently, waiting patiently for him to talk it out. 

“That letter is from the hospital saying they need to see us. What it means is that I-”

“You need to go to Daegu.” Jimin interjected quietly. “You need to go tonight. Right now.”

Yoongi nodded and pursed his lips. “But I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Hyung. I’ll get Tae or Hobi-hyung or one of the Kims to come stay with me if it makes you feel better. I can’t leave, but you can, and your family needs you. Tell me how I can help from here and I will do it. I know you have some legal docs from Physalign that are being delivered tomorrow, I can sign for them if you let the courier know. Anything you need, Honey.”

Yoongi stared at Jimin for a moment before reaching up to pull him close, pressing their mouths together. He kissed Jimin thoroughly, pouring all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say into the contact; wishing for the millionth time that he were brave enough to admit was he was feeling even to himself. After a few minutes he pulled away; resting his forehead against Jimin’s and trying to slow his heartbeat while Jimin’s breathless pants ghosted across his face. 

“Baby, if I keep kissing you I won’t be able to leave tonight,” Yoongi said ruefully as he leaned back to take in his lover’s appearance. The blush of desire rode high on Jimin’s cheeks and his arousal was already straining against the fabric of his joggers as he looked back at Yoongi with dilated pupils. Yoongi laughed a little at the bemused expression on Jimin’s face and kissed him chastely on the tip of his nose, unable to help himself. “You are so cute,” he said affectionately. “And I cannot tell you how much I love that you are so responsive to me, but I do have to go.”

Jimin grinned shyly and the flush of desire turned to the soft glow of embarrassment as he nodded his agreement and climbed off of Yoongi’s lap, adjusting himself as he rose with a low chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jimin said when he saw Yoongi watching him as he repositioned himself through his pants. “But you just said you have no time.” He walked towards the kitchen waving a hand dismissively. “You go get packed and I will make some coffee, since you got sidetracked from getting some before and are definitely going to need some now. I know the drive is only a few hours long, but it’s getting late.”

Yoongi nodded with a sigh, the hunger on his face replaced with grim resignation as he got up from the couch and headed to his bedroom to pack. He would have given anything to be able to lose himself in Jimin’s arms for the night, not worrying about his mother or what he would face when he got to her house.

He’d promised himself he would never go back, but he couldn’t just abandon his family. At least not his parents. 

It was going to be a long week.

 

* * *

 

Jimin blinked his eyes against the morning sun as the notification of an incoming message rang through the quiet room. Rolling over, he patted his hand around the nightstand until he found his phone and tapped the Kakao notification on the screen.

**[♥Hyung♥]: Are you up?**

**[Jimin]: Just now yeah. Are u ok?**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Sorry, did I wake you?**

**[Jimin]: Yeah but it’s ok I needed to get up anyway. What’s up?**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Not much, just letting you know that I told Physalign that you could sign for the docs they are sending over. Will you put them on my desk when they get there?**

**[Jimin]: Are u writing a novel? lol**

**[Jimin]: Yeah np.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: It wasn’t that long of a message...**

**[Jimin]: lol i know i was just giving u a hard time**

**[Jimin]: But seriously are u ok? How are things with ur mom and dad and uncle? Have u heard from your brother?**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Now who’s writing a novel? lol**

**[Jimin]: lol**

**[♥Hyung♥]: My mom is ok, just really worried about my dad and mad at my uncle for being unreasonable with this PoA bs.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: We’re going to go up to the hospital tomorrow evening, the docs think they’ll be able to bring my uncle out of the drug induced coma he’s in.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: No word on my dad’s condition yet.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Talked to JunKi this morning, he’ll be on a flight as soon as he can be and should be here in a couple of days.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Are you still there?**

**[Jimin]: Yes I’m here I was just waiting for the full report. I’m glad you’re there for your mom.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Me too.**

**[Jimin]: I miss you.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: I miss you too, Jiminie. I can’t tell you how much I hate sleeping alone now. I blame you. lol**

**[Jimin]: I hate it too. It’s an awfully big bed to be by myself in. But I....**

**[Jimin]: ...I may have worn one of your shirts to sleep in last night because it smells like you.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: You slept in my shirt?**

**[Jimin]: Omg i can’t believe I just sent that. PAY NO ATTENTION TO MY WEIRDNESS. O__O**

**[♥Hyung♥]: I stg only you could have me aroused and laughing at the same time while I am in the middle of a literal crisis. Don’t apologize for sleeping in my shirt, Jiminie, the idea of it is both endearing and hot.**

**[Jimin]: >_< **

**[♥Hyung♥]: I can feel you blushing from here.**

**[Jimin]: O///O**

**[♥Hyung♥]: I have to go meet with the lawyer in a few minutes. Send me a pic of you all sleepy and sweet in my shirt. I need something to get me through this shit day.**

**[Jimin]: Yes sir.**

**[♥Hyung♥]: JFC man are you trying to kill me?**

**[Jimin]: lol no. I’ll send the pic. Call me if you need me, ok?**

**[♥Hyung♥]: Of course. Ttys**

Jimin smiled to himself as he stretched out in the bed. He really wasn’t used to sleeping alone anymore. 

Running his hand through his hair a little he rolled onto his back and held the phone above him, trying to get a good angle. He tilted the phone until only the bottom half of his face was in the frame but the whole shirt and the tops of his bare thighs could be seen. Parting his lips a fraction and making sure the shirt was pulled tight around his abs, he snapped the selca. With an impish grin he added the text “Waiting for you, Sir” and sent it.

Jimin laughed out loud, an oddly full sound that seemed out of place without his boyfriend here, when Yoongi replied almost immediately with a picture of a gravestone. He’d only been gone one night and already Jimin missed the other man like crazy. Shaking his head he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom for his morning routine.

 

* * *

 

The sound of the door unlocking startled Jimin out of the deep concentration he had been in. Setting his book aside he picked up his phone and looked at the time. It was only early afternoon and the Kims weren’t supposed to be over until later that night. Not sure who else would have the code to Yoongi’s front door, Jimin rose from where he was sitting on the couch as the door opened and Shin Suran stepped into the entryway.

“CEO Shin?” Jimin asked with confusion as he moved across the living area. “What are you doing here?”

The older woman had the polished appearance of the board executive she was, with her sleek black pant suit and miles high stiletto heels, her hair perfectly coiffed, and not a wrinkle anywhere to be seen.

She looked at Jimin in his ripped-knee jeans and form fitting sleeveless shirt and barely managed to keep her lip from curling. Eyebrows furrowing at the hostility in her expression, Jimin stopped halfway down the length of the bar and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for a response.

“I was bringing by some documents for Yoongi-ssi to sign as one of Physalign’s board members. I’m sure he mentioned it.” she said, plastering a wooden smile on her face.

“Yes, he mentioned it. Although the understanding was that it would come by courier,” Jimin replied coolly.

Eyeing Jimin for a moment, she eventually handed over the envelope and an invoice. “Sign here, please,” she said in a monotone. Jimin took the envelope and the paper and went to the catch-all drawer in the kitchen to get a pen.

“Where is Yoongi-ssi anyway?” she asked as Jimin signed the paper and kept a receipt copy.

“He’s in Daegu dealing with some personal things.” Jimin replied in the same monotone as he brought the original receipt back to CEO Shin and handed it to her. “Are you ok?” He asked, mildly unsettled when the color drained out of her face and the icy exterior vanished to be replaced by a look of real worry.

“In Daegu? Is he with his family?” she demanded.

Jimin nodded. “Yes. Why?”

CEO Shin looked at him in horror. “You let him go home...by himself?!” She asked incredulously.

Taken aback by the sudden vehemence of her demeanor Jimin nodded again.

“How the fuck can you call yourself his boyfriend when you don’t even go with him when he goes home?” she said hotly, all pretense of civility vanished. “I don’t know what made him go back, but since he swore he never would, I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be there alone. Where do you think his scars came from?!”

Jimin’s mind was reeling. Scars? What scars? He had seen the few on Yoongi’s hands, but none of them were really severe. What was she talking about?

“CEO Shin, I-” he began, not sure how to placate this suddenly aggressive person who was standing in his home.

“Oh my god, you don’t know,” she said with sincere disgust. “You have been living together for how many months? And, what, you haven’t seen him shirtless? Or did you just not care because it wasn’t about you?” she spat. “I have to go. Maybe I can get things wrapped up enough to go there tomorrow. Because he shouldn’t be alone there,” she repeated as she moved towards the door. “Which you would know if you weren’t so busy hiding in your ivory tower. It was nice seeing you again, CEO Park. I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said sharply as she left with the door slamming behind her.

Jimin stood for a moment in the aftermath of her anger and tried to understand what had just happened. Moving slowly through the living area, he went to Yoongi’s office to put the documents on his desk and thought about what she had just said.

Had he truly never seen Yoongi’s torso? He’d moved from the guest room into Yoongi’s room permanently not long after the night that he woke Yoongi up with an episode almost a month ago. And they held each other and petted and fooled around almost every night but...Yoongi always had a shirt on. They never showered together, and Yoongi was always up and dressed when Jimin got up in the morning.

Jimin’s mind snapped to the first time Yoongi has kissed him. It was after a performance and the other man had come to his dressing room. Jimin’s shirt had been unbuttoned and Yoongi’s hands had been all over him, but when Jimin had tried to snake his hands under his partner’s shirt, they had been gently pulled away and pinned above his head.

Freezing in place as a thousand things that he’d never paid much attention to popped in his brain, Jimin felt his stomach clench sourly. Yoongi spoke often of his hometown, but rarely mentioned his family. He seemed fond of his brother, JunKi, but had never mentioned his uncle who was with his dad when when the car accident happened. He always wore sleeves, never took his shirts off, and always kept Jimin’s hands otherwise occupied when they started to wander.

 _Oh gods._ Jimin thought sickly. _Where did I just let him go by himself? How could I be so selfish that I didn’t notice?_

Fighting the urge to cry, he ran from the office towards the bedroom. Shooting off a quick text to Namjoon to tell him that he would be going to bed early and didn’t need any company that night, Jimin changed into a long-sleeved shirt, stuffed some things in a worn backpack that he often used as a dance bag, grabbed a hat and a half-face mask and walked quickly towards the door. Setting Gramps up with enough food and water for a few days, he went to the entryway to put on his boots and jacket. He paused for a few minutes to call a cab service and purchase a train ticket online before putting on the hat and half-mask and going out into the hall, locking the door behind himself as he left. 

Wanting to avoid the elevator or anyone who might be watching it, Jimin took the stairs down 15 flights and exited out the side door of the building into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies. How has everyone's spring been so far? This is kind of a shorter chapter than what I usually post, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I have questions for you:  
> \- What questions/theories do you have boiling in the back of your cute heads?  
> \- What are your thoughts on Yoongi and Jimin's relationship so far?  
> \- Which parts of the story have you enjoyed the most?
> 
> Throw your answers in the comment section and I will try to get to them as soon as I can.  
> I love your feedback.  
> Thanks as always for reading my fic! <3
> 
> ~Kyt

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably in the green plastic chair, uncrossing his legs and stretching before recrossing them and hunching over with an elbow resting on his knee. 

He really had discovered a renewed dislike for hospitals recently.

His mother sat beside him, her small shoulders hunched with exhaustion, fine lines of worry etched into her face, as she twisted work roughened hands in her lap.

“They should let us back to the ICU soon, Eomma,” Yoongi said reassuringly for the 10th time in the past hour. “Until then, we can see how Sung Hoon does when they bring him out of the coma.” Reaching over, he took one of his mother’s small hands in his. “Abeoji will be ok. We’ll be able to see him before long.”

Nodding with a small smile, Yoongi’s mother extracted her hand long enough to pat Yoongi on the leg before returning it to her lap.

“I know,” she said wearily. “I am just concerned about your father...and about how this is going to work with Sung Hoo’s care before your father can wake up to have a say.”

“That’s what I am here for, Eomma. And Junki is on his way too, we’ll do what we can to handle it. As the closest next of kin...or really the only next of kin that he will allow to deal with his affairs, the lawyer seems to think that there won’t be a problem.” Yoongi replied, his voice growing flat.

Nodding again, Yoongi’s mother was quiet for a few minutes before speaking in a subdued voice. “I’m grateful that you came, son, but you...I would have understood if you weren’t able to make it. I know this can’t be easy for you either.”

Yoongi patted his mother’s shoulder in response, not trusting himself to to reply to that statement as he fought against the biting response that sprang unbidden to his lips. Instead he got to his feet and bowed, excusing himself to go outside and smoke; a habit he knew his mother disapproved of, but one she wouldn’t say anything about - especially right now. Settling on the bench at the designated smoking area outside the hospital, Yoongi lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out on a sigh that did nothing to alleviate the pressure in his chest.

The last time he’d needed a cigarette to calm his nerves this badly he’d been in front of a different hospital, desperately trying to keep it together while the man he couldn’t imagine being without fought for his life.

Shaking his head against memories that would not help his current headspace, Yoongi took another drag of his cigarette and pulled out his phone. Unlocking it, he opened the Kakao app and pulled up his conversation with Jimin, smiling warmly at the pic that Jimin had sent him that morning. If the idea of Jimin all sleepy and warm while wearing Yoongi’s shirt had caused him problems, the visual evidence of his boyfriend with his lips parted and the tops of his strong thighs peeking out from the bottom of said shirt had him mentally climbing the walls. For all that the sexy image stirred his libido, however...and it did...what grabbed Yoongi by the heart more than anything was the edge of scarring that could be seen on one of Jimin’s thighs. Jimin had sent this pic to tease Yoongi and either hadn't noticed that his scars were visible, or didn’t care anymore that they were showing.

Yoongi wondered for a moment if he would ever be that comfortable with Jimin. If he would ever be able to strip completely and let his partner see all of him. His stomach rolled a little at the idea, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to distract his lover from seeing him for much longer. He also knew that if anyone would understand how self-conscious he was, it would be Jimin.

Jimin, with his sweet smile and ready laugh, his cute giggle and how easily he blushed.

Fuck, but Yoongi missed him.

Missed how soft he was first thing in the morning when he wasn’t awake yet.

Missed how his temper would flare and how the carefully cultivated Soul accent would bleed away, leaving the Busan growl in its place.

Missed how Jimin cared for people, how he loved people.

Missed how all trace of submissiveness vanished to be replaced with a quiet confidence when he was teaching his students in the studio or working out business deals in the boardroom.

Missed the feel of him, the taste of him, and the way he smelled.

Yoongi had never longed for someone as much as he longed for Jimin.

He missed him intensely; this whole nightmare would have been much easier to deal with if his partner had been there.

Jimin was safe in their apartment, though, away from whomever was targeting him. Yoongi made a mental note to head to Physalign when he got back to Seoul and see if any progress had been made on determining all the components of the poison used against Jimin and Namjoon.

Yoongi had almost lost two important people in his life that day and here he stood again, waiting to see if he was going to have another near miss, or if he needed to start making other plans. He needed to feel like he was in control of something - like he was doing something that could help someone. He was sick of being powerless when the people who mattered the most needed him.

Feeling the grim reality press down on him of what might have to happen if his father didn’t pull through, Yoongi looked again at the picture of his lover bathed in sunlight and sweetness and felt his pulse even out and the weight on his chest ease a little.

Chuckling ruefully he put his cigarette out in the ashtray post near the smoker’s bench and started walking back towards the hospital doors.

When had he become such a sap?

* * *

The train pulled to a stop and the doors popped open to allow those who had reached their destination to disembark before new passengers boarded. Jimin stepped down onto the busy platform and tried to get his bearings; he and Hoseok-hyung had been to Daegu multiple times for dance workshops that had been sponsored by Tandem, so he wasn’t completely disoriented, but it had occurred to him about half-way through his trip that he had no idea what Yoongi’s parents’ address was. 

Shivering against the cold night air, he pulled his jacket more tightly around himself moved away from the train towards the back of the platform where there was less of a crowd. The push of passengers coming and going was not usually an issue for Jimin, he was used to living in Seoul after all, but it seemed like the people around him were paying less attention to their surroundings than was expected. Once or twice Jimin was even shoved so hard that the only thing that kept him from sprawling across the station floor were the people in front of him and his still-nimble reflexes. 

When he was finally through the onslaught, Jimin found a quiet corner and took out his phone. Pulling up Naver, he tried searching for Yoongi’s family name, but he was unprepared for how many Mins there were in Daegu. Taking a moment of sympathy for common last names (Park being one), and trying to stem his frustration, Jimin thought for a moment.

He didn’t know the uncle’s name; the man was the brother of Yoongi’s mother and Jimin wasn’t entirely certain what Mrs. Min’s family name had been before marriage.

He wasn’t sure how to narrow down the search based on the citizen registry because it was getting a little late to be knocking on strangers’ doors until he came upon the right one.

Sighing heavily, Jimin took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair, letting his hand slide around the backs of his ears to make sure that the arms of his glasses hadn’t twisted in the ear loops of his half face mask. He was at a bit of a loss concerning what to do next, Hoseok-hyung and Tae and Kookie were usually the more spontaneous ones. Jimin tended to be more reserved when doing something, usually with at least one backup plan should his initial plan not work out, so making a rash decision and then having to figure out next steps in real time was throwing him off.

_Ok ok, just calm down and figure it out._

_You don’t know which hospital Yoongi's family is at yet, and you can’t call him to ask because if he knows where you are right now it will just worry him more._

_You don’t know which address for Min in the registry is for his family, and you never bothered to see if you could find an address before leaving._

_Ahhhhhh babo. Babo babo babo._ He mentally chastised himself. _Why couldn’t you have taken a few minutes to prepare?_

He sat pondering his options for a few minutes more before a sudden grin split his worried features into an expression of relief. Fishing around in his backpack, he pulled out his wallet and thumbed through the various business cards until he came to one he was looking for. Pulling out the card in question, he secured the wallet back in his bag and used his phone to double check the information. With a small triumphant laugh, Jimin stood from his seat and slung the bag over one shoulder as he left the station to call a cab.

He knew exactly what to do.

* * *

“CEO Min? Your uncle will see you now. He is awake and coherent.”

Yoongi rose with his mother to follow the nurse, trying to appear calm as he swallowed past the bile that rose higher in his throat with every step. Turning the corner of the hall to the executive wing, Yoongi willed himself to continue moving towards the room that was simply marked “Lee” in dry erase marker on the clear plastic plaque to the right of the door. The doctor entered first, holding the door to usher them inside.

The room was dimly lit and the man propped up on the bed looked fragile and old; his face creased into a frown even in a semi-relaxed position as he rested his eyes. The nurse roused the patient with a gentle nudge of the shoulder. “Lee-ssi,” he said kindly, “your family is here to see you.” 

The old man’s eyes popped open and focused intently on each person in the room. He may have looked aged beyond his years, but time had not diminished the sharpness of Lee Sung Hoon’s gaze as it cut into his nephew, bringing with it a thousand memories that Yoongi thought he’d pushed to the back of his mind.

Wetting cracked lips with an equally parched tongue, Sung Hoon addressed his sister. “I see you’ve managed to bring the runaway home,” he said in a low tone made scratchy from the breathing machine that had only recently been removed from his throat. “Where is my brother-in-law?” he demanded.

His mother opened his mouth to speak, but Yoongi beat her to it. “Abeoji was more severely wounded in the accident than you were, Sung Hoon-ssi.” Yoongi said in a carefully neutral tone as he stepped slightly between his mother and his uncle. “He is not yet conscious or out of the ICU and decisions needed to be made about your care until you were awake. Since you decided to make sure Eomma couldn’t be involved with that process, here I am.”

Sung Hoon scoffed roughly, a movement that caused him to cough violently for a few moments. Yoongi stood watching impassively as the nurse helped his uncle sit up in bed and get some water. The coughing fit ended in a raspy chuckle as Sung Hoon dismissed the nurse with a wave of his hand. “Just going to let an old man choke, huh? Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” he said with a cruel smile on his lips.

Yoongi’s expression remained apathetic. “I paid for your upgraded hospital accommodations. You should be more grateful, Sung Hoon-ssi,” he said evenly.

“You can’t even address me properly. Your own uncle and you call me by my given name. As worthless as your mother, you are. When is Junki coming home?” Sung Hoon said with a sneer.

“Hyung is on his way home, Sung Hoon-ssi, but he won’t be here for a while yet so you’re stuck with me. And you are no uncle of mine, you simply happened to have incubated in the same uterus as my mother,” Yoongi replied, priding himself on his lack of vocal inflection when all he wanted to do was bludgeon his uncle with the IV rack until he stopped talking.

“Yoongi that’s enough,” his mother admonished quietly.

Sung Hoon’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his nephew. “Think you’re better than me because you own that fancy publishing company, huh? Well I know who you really are, so maybe you should remember your place,” he spat with the derisive tone that had made Yoongi’s stomach roll when he was a child and still made his skin crawl as a man. “I’ll have my lawyer come work with me on what to do next, I don’t need either of you here like I am some goddamn baby. Go fuss over someone who wants you.” He finished as he laid back down on his bed and curled onto his side with his back to them.

Yoongi stood seething for a moment before turning and stalking from the room. His mother caught up with him as he got to the elevators. She stood quietly for a moment before she placed a hand on Yoongi’s back. “Yoongi,” she began quietly, “you know it doesn’t help if you antagonize him.”

Yoongi jerked away from her touch and looked at her angrily. “You have got to be kidding me, Eomma. Are you really going to say that any attitude he gives is my fault?” he crossed his arms and stared ahead at the elevator doors. “He’s lucky i didn’t strangle him with his IV...”

 _“Yoongi!”_ his mother gasped.

“What?! Are you going to defend him? AGAIN? Are you? Because if so, I can just leave now that he’s awake and come back when there’s news about Abeoji. Hyung will be here soon and then you won’t have to worry about choosing between your youngest son and your brother anymore because we both know which way that will go,” he said, emotion pushing a waver into his voice.

His mother’s face drained of color and she flinched. The elevator arrived and she stepped on, clasping her hands in front of her and keeping her eyes downcast. Yoongi stepped onto the elevator with her and pushed the button for the ground floor. With a sigh he reached over and gathered the woman into his arms, noticing for the first time how frail she felt as he hugged her. “I’m sorry, Eomma, that wasn’t fair. I know how hard you work to keep everything moving. I don’t mean to make things more difficult. Of course I’m not going to leave.”

Reaching around him she patted him on the back in small circles like she used to when he was a child. “I can't make up for what happened, Yoongi. I just want you to believe that I love you. You are my son and every bit as important as Junki. You know that, right?” she said, her voice soft and unsure.

Yoongi rested his chin on her head. “I know. I do know. We’ll get through this.” The elevator dinged as it came to a stop and the doors opened to let them out. “Where to from here?” he asked as they walked to the visitor’s entrance.

“I need to go by the restaurant, I haven’t been there in a few days and I had two of my servers call out on me today so I’m sure they are swamped,” she replied, confidence coming into her tone as she spoke of her business.

Yoongi nodded as he led the way to the parking garage. “To the shop it is. I can help if you’d like. It will help the evening go by faster.”

* * *

Yoongi parked around the block from Big Mom’s Soondaeguk Eatery and got out to open the passenger door for his mother, pulling her coat closer around her against the biting wind as she got out.

“We need to hurry,” she said as she began moving briskly. “I’m hoping they found someone to help before I got here, but it looks packed.” Pulling his own coat tighter around him, Yoongi hurried after her down the busy sidewalk. 

The eatery was indeed packed full, with customers yelling for additional bowls of rice and servers weaving in and out of tables, chatting with the patrons, taking orders, placing food, and refilling drinks. Yoongi took his coat and scarf off at the door and hung them on the peg behind the register. “CEO Min and...CEO Min?!” The surprised screech of Jung Hee, his mother’s oldest friend, and also the manager of Big Mom’s, came forward to greet them, a huge grin spread across her face as she hugged her boss and then unashamedly pulled Yoongi into a vigorous embrace. “We didn’t know if you’d be by while you were in town!” she said happily. “I hope you’re here to work, though, because we need it tonight.”

Yoongi laughed and hugged her back. “Of course I’m here to help,” he replied. “Do you think Eomma would let me get away without working? Pfft.”

Swatting his arm, his mother laughed a small chuckle that had been the lightest thing he had heard out of her in the last couple of days. She smiled at him before turning and moving towards the kitchen, addressing her friend as they wound their way to the back. “Things seem to be going smoothly in spite of the call-outs, who did we get in to cover?”

"We got Sun Ah’s cousin in again, but the real treasure is in the other new boy. A friend of your CEO Min’s, he said he was. He clearly has experience serving in a restaurant and he’s just charmed the business out of everyone here, I can’t get people to leave!” Jung Hee laughed. 

Yoongi looked into the dining room when she gestured towards it and felt the blood drain from his face as his knees give out. Barely aware of the concerned cries of the women with him or the chair that was slid under him before he fell to the ground, Yoongi gaped at what he was witnessing. Weaving between the tables and other servers with a wide smile and a tray full of food plates was none other than Park Jimin. Dressed in the long sleeved black and white striped shirt he loved so much and his favorite ripped up black skinny jeans with a black apron wrapped twice and tied around his slender waist, Jimin moved gracefully from table to table serving food. His bangs were trapped, pulled back under the black Victory Couture snapback that he was wearing backwards, with a few stray strands escaping to hang over his forehead and brush the top of the chunky black glasses he wore when his eyes were tired of contacts. 

Ignoring the anxious fluttering of his mother, Yoongi stood from the chair he found himself sitting in and strode across the room with a singular focus. Jimin finished serving the last dish on his tray and was turning to head back to the kitchen when he spotted Yoongi coming towards him. The smile on his face grew brighter and his eyes crinkled in obvious pleasure.

"Oh Hyung!” he said happily. “I was wondering when you would turn up. I have been he-”

Jimin’s exclamation was cut short by Yoongi arriving by his side, his lips drawn into a grim line. Taking the tray out of Jimin’s hand, Yoongi handed it to another server without looking, grabbed Jimin by the wrist, and pulled him towards the back. “I need the office for a few minutes,” he said brusquely to his mother and Jung Hee as he passed them; pushing through the double doors that led into the kitchen and giving them no time to answer.

* * *

Yoongi didn’t seem happy to see him.

Jimin worried at his bottom lip with his teeth as he was pulled through the busy kitchen, out to the hallway in the back, past the employee restrooms, and into the office next to the restaurant's rear exit.

After leading Jimin inside, Yoongi let go of his wrist and locked the door behind them.

Nervously Jimin fidgeted with his hands. “Hyung I-” Jimin began, only to be cut off again by the growl that came from Yoongi.

“What the FUCK. Are. You. Doing. Here.” Yoongi bit out between clenched teeth.

The smile left Jimin’s face entirely and his expression turned to one of uncertainty. “I...um...surprise?” he offered tentatively.

“Surprise.” Yoongi said incredulously. _“Surprise?!”_ he shouted. “Are you KIDDING ME?!” 

Jimin took a step back when Yoongi kicked a chair over. “Goddammit Jimin are you actively trying to give me a heart attack?! Did you come here by yourself?!”

Yes, I-”

“Son of a BITCH.” Yoongi hollered, vibrating with rage. “Who knows you’re here? WHO ELSE KNOWS. I’m going to kill all of them...” he rumbled as he began to pace.

The heated hurt over Yoongi’s initial reaction flared hot into anger in Jimin’s belly as tears pricked the back of his eyes. “No one knows because I didn’t tell them, Hyung. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” he said in a deceptively quiet voice.

“Well fucking obviously you do.” Yoongi spat as he continued to pace with his eyes on the floor.

"Hyung, look at me.” Jimin said in a tightly.

“This has to be the dumbest thing you have ever d-”

“Goddammit Yoongi I said LOOK AT ME.” Jimin finally shouted.

Yoongi’s pacing stopped and his head snapped up to look at where his partner stood against the wall with his fists clenched. The tightness of Yoongi’s face loosened a little and he let out the breath he’d been holding. “Jimin I-” he began.

“No, shut up.” Jimin snapped. “Shut up for five minutes. It’s my turn to say words,” he seethed. “I know how stupid this was. You think I don’t know? I don’t know my life is at risk? You fucking think I don’t know that?!”

“Jimin...” Yoongi tried again.

“No shut the FUCK UP, YOONGI.” Jimin’s voice rang off the walls, his Busan accent bleeding through his normally careful speech pattern. “I know it was a risk to come here. I didn’t have your family’s information, I didn’t know which hospital your dad and uncle were at, but I had the card for your mom’s restaurant that used to be on the fridge so I came here. I knew how dangerous it was, but what I didn’t know is what kind of horror show you would be walking into here and I couldn’t let you be here alone. I COULDN’T LEAVE YOU ALONE, OK.” he yelled, chest heaving with gasping breath, tears that wouldn’t spill burning his eyes. 

“You don’t always have to take care of me, Hyung,” Jimin said fiercely. “I can take care of myself. And I want to take care of you sometimes too, that’s what a partnership is supposed to be.”

Yoongi’s scrubbed his hands over his face, as if he couldn’t seem to process what he wanted to say. “Jimin,” he said, frustration burning in his tone, “if you don’t have someone there to watch over you something might happen. I mean, that’s how you became...” Yoongi trailed off and looked at his feet. 

Jimin felt the unspoken words slice through him more effectively than any blade could have. A single tear escaped and ran down his cheeks before his eyes dried out and his skin felt suddenly too tight. “That’s how I become what, Hyung?” he said softly, ice forming on the edge of his words, freezing his rage in place. “That’s how I become...an addict? A victim? When I don’t have someone there to watch me like a toddler in case the Substance Abuse Fairy tries to bring me presents?” he said with a cruelly self-depreciating twist to his mouth.

Yoongi’s eyes widened and he stepped forward with his arms out. “Jimin no, I-”

“Don’t touch me.” Jimin said flatly, putting a hand up to stop Yoongi’s momentum. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he repeated, hurt and fury dripping from his voice. “It is obvious that coming here was a bigger mistake than even I realized, but for none of the reasons I was worried about. I think we’re done here for the night, CEO Min.”

Yoongi’s breath caught at the formalities that clicked a wall in place between them as effectively as any physical structure or distance could have.

Jimin walked to the office door and unlocked it. Pausing with his hand on the door he turned back slightly, the pleasantly neutral mask he reserved for strangers firmly in place. “You can let your mother and the nice ajumma know that I’ll be around for another shift or two tomorrow.” he said quietly before opening the door and leaving the room.

* * *

Yoongi felt like someone had turned the room upside down and dumped him out of it. 

What the fuck had just happened? 

Realizing he was just standing in the middle of the room in shock, he rallied himself and took off out the door and up the hall to the kitchen.

His mother and Jung Hee looked up in surprise as he burst through the kitchen door into the dining area.

“Yoongi, what in the world are yo-” his mother started to ask but Yoongi put a hand up to interrupt. 

“Did Jimin come this way?” he asked breathlessly.

Is mother’s eyes widened at the name. “That young man is Jimin?” she asked in astonishment. “Oh my. I wondered when was going to meet him. And no, he didn’t come this way, I haven’t seen him since you drug him back through the kitchen.”

“Shit” Yoongi swore. 

_“Yoongi!”_

“Sorry Eomma,” he apologized automatically, his mind more focused on where his boyfriend might have gone than his mother’s sensibilities.

 _He must have gone out the back..._ Yoongi thought as he turned to push back through the kitchen doors. He navigated is way quickly through the kitchen, back down the hallway, past the office where he had stuck his foot all the way in his mouth like an idiot, and out the back door.

Traffic whizzed past on the highway that the building faced away from and the street between them bustled with people and vehicles alike.

Yoongi ran up and down the connecting streets but caught no sign of his graceful dancer.

His heart squeezed painfully as he sank down onto a bench next to the sidewalk and put his head in his hands. 

Jimin was gone.


End file.
